


My Reader

by Cleverboots (Amberlovesocean)



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:22:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 78,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27214876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amberlovesocean/pseuds/Cleverboots
Summary: Kurt is looking for an after-school job. He finds an ad on the school bulletin board for a job reading aloud for someone. It pays well and seems easy, so Kurt applies. He gets the job and goes to the mansion to read for a boy that was severely injured in an accident. Of course you know the boy's name is Blaine Anderson. After a rocky start, they become friends and an amazing opportunity opens up for Kurt.
Relationships: Blaine Anderson/Kurt Hummel
Comments: 110
Kudos: 104





	1. Gonna Find My Corner of the Sky

**My Reader – Chapter One – Gonna Find My Corner of the Sky**

**Monday**

Kurt glanced down at the scrap of paper in his pocket. He'd taken it off the bulletin board in the counselor's office at lunchtime when he'd gone to see Miss Pillsbury to ask about getting a part time job. He combed back his chestnut hair with his fingers as he thought about what he wanted to say. It was a nervous habit he was trying to curb and he jammed his hand into his pocket.

The school required students to do one after-school activity a week and Kurt balked at that. He was more vulnerable at that time of the afternoon with most of the faculty gone, and he didn't want to put himself in danger trying to navigate the student parking lot after hours.

It was ridiculous that Glee Club didn't count since it was a credited class and not an after-school activity. Of course the football players and other athletes, along with the Cheerios, were allowed to use their sports as after-school activities in spite of being credited classes during the school day.

Kurt sighed at yet another injustice at McKinley High.

Miss Pillsbury understood Kurt's reluctance and showed him the board where employers sometimes posted openings. She explained that he could have an exemption from the after-school activity requirement if he was employed.

Kurt sifted through the small ads: clerk at a dry cleaners, bus boy at BreadStix, cookie scooper at a bakery in the mall, and dog walker at the animal shelter. He was considering the job at the shelter – he loved dogs and cats - when he saw one that seemed like it might be a better fit. He stepped closer to the bulletin board to read it again, brushing his hair off of his face in a nervous motion:

Wanted. Person to read aloud for invalid. Must be reliable, educated, well groomed, and have a pleasant reading voice. Call 555-1212 to arrange for an interview.

He had been looking for a part-time job to pay for some clothes and a few gifts for the holidays and this sounded like a good prospect – kill two birds with one stone as his father would say. He had recently made the decision to expand his wardrobe in spite of what people said about him. It didn't seem to matter one iota if he dressed fashionably or if he dressed in the defacto McKinley uniform: band T-shirt, dirty jeans, and a scowl on his face.

Yes, this just might be his ticket to saving some money for college or putting some money in his pocket. He hated to ask his dad for money.

Kurt removed the paper, knowing he could probably get the job but he didn't want competition. He crumpled it up, then changed his mind and straightened the paper, smoothing it before he folded it and put it just inside the book he was reading. He was actually whistling as he left the school building that day.

* * *

**Wednesday**

After calling the number on the ad, Kurt picked out an outfit for the interview he'd scheduled. He'd felt lucky about this possibility – something in the air just seemed to be good today. He would be the perfect candidate, he was sure.

After his shower, Kurt started with pulling on his cherry-red underwear. They were made of a silk blend fabric and made him feel light and cheerful for some reason. He pulled on his favorite pair of charcoal slacks with the front pleats and argyle socks to match. Standing in front of the mirror, he debated whether to wear his slightly casual shirt or the stiffer dress shirt in the closet. He decided on the dress shirt – it was linen, a soft Prussian blue that highlighted his eyes. He smiled as he buttoned it up, he'd bought it on a whim when he saw the fly-front that hid the buttons under a piece of fabric as opposed to the usual placket-front. This shirt had a box-pleat in the back and darts that helped the fabric fit to his body. It looked less bulky under a vest or waistcoat than any of his other shirts.

After tucking in the shirt tail, he put on a brick red tie with tiny chevrons in the weave. This had been a present from his dad – one of the few uncoached gifts that Burt had purchased that Kurt actually approved of. He smiled to himself in the mirror. He loved his dad so much.

Next came the waistcoat he'd chosen: a darker shade of charcoal to contrast with his slacks and jacket. It had a subtle window-pane check that matched his tie, slacks, and shirt and pulled his outfit together in a classy way. He put his grandfather's watch in the watch-pocket and pinned the chain to the other side. Kurt's grandfather had been a railroad man and left his prize possession to his only grandson and Kurt was inordinately proud of it.

He went to his dresser to get the case for his jewelry. It was always hard to pick just the right accessories when it came to something like an interview. He wanted to stand out, but it had to be for the right reasons. After much thought, he chose the silver cuff-links that had been a present from his mother to his dad years before Kurt was born and Burt had given them to Kurt last Christmas. He found the matching tie-pin and put that in just the right place – then checked in the mirror to be sure the watch-chain and the tie clasp didn't detract from each other. With a last glance at his reflection in the mirror, he smiled - knowing he looked sharp.

* * *

"Mr. Hummel, thank you for applying for the position of Reader. I trust you have read the requirements I sent to you on Monday?" the woman asked. She was short, dressed in a navy Chanel pencil skirt. In contrast to the severe skirt the woman wore a white blouse with soft ruffles. Her only adornments were tortoiseshell glasses, a gold wedding band and several other rings studded with precious gems and a unique sapphire and emerald brooch in the shape of a dragonfly. Her shiny black hair was in a tight French knot and she wore just enough tasteful make-up to enhance her natural beauty.

Kurt could tell she had come from money, even if he hadn't been standing in the front parlor of her mansion after being led there and announced by her maid. The easy way she moved her hands in spite of the rings with diamonds, rubies, and sapphires showed she was used to wearing them. She wore elegant clothes, carried herself like a princess and her slightly arrogant way of speaking gave Kurt an idea of her place on the social register. He could work with this.

"Yes, ma'am, I did. I pass all of the requirements on your list," he replied. Kurt tried to smile, but the woman looked down her nose as she lifted her chin to see him through her bi-focal glasses.

The woman hadn't introduced herself, she just indicated a chair across the Hepplewhite desk from where she was sitting. He pulled up on the front seams of his dress slacks to sit down, then clasped his hands loosely in his lap.

"Then you won't mind if I ask you a few questions. First, who wrote The Mill on the Floss?"

"George Elliott," Kurt replied and hoped all her questions would be so easy. He smiled at her, but she didn't smile back.

"Good. Which came first – Malory's Morte D-Arthur or The Canterbury Tales?"

"The Canterbury Tales was a full century before Malory, ma'am."

"Correct," the woman said in her clipped tone. She tapped her fountain pen on the desk for a moment, then continued.

"Tell me the circumstances of the writing of the novel Frankenstein."

Kurt sat still for a few minutes, examining his brain for the story he recalled from an English class. He smiled as the facts presented themselves to him. He coughed and told the woman what he remembered.

"Mary Godwin was visiting Lake Geneva with the romantic poets Percy Bysshe Shelley and Lord Byron. Byron suggested they make up ghost stories and Mary came up with a short version of Frankenstein. She later married Percy Shelley and with his encouragement she made the short story into a novel," Kurt related, keeping a sober face. He wanted to give a whoop and a holler at remembering the story, but the woman looked as if she had no sense of humor at all.

"What did the Ancient Mariner shoot in Coleridge's epic poem of that name?"

"The albatross."

"Who was Lorraine Hansberry?"

"The playwright of Raisin in the Sun," Kurt answered quickly. "She was part of the Harlem Renaissance movement," he added to show he was paying attention.

"Well, you do seem to know a bit. Tell me, do you enjoy literature?" the woman asked.

"Yes, ma'am, I do. I hope one day to make the New York theatre my home," he answered.

"You do? Doing what, may I ask?"

"I haven't come to a definite decision, but I can tell you that I love to sing – I'm a countertenor in my school's show choir – and I am interested in acting. I am editor of the literary magazine at my high school and I am very good with costuming and design. I have applied to several New York colleges and universities for study in theatre arts," Kurt said. He worried that he might not seem serious because he really hadn't narrowed his field of study down to a fine point, but he wasn't going to lie about it.

The woman touched the tips of her fingers together and flexed her knuckles, then touched her index fingertips to her lips. Kurt had seen the beginnings of a smile when he mentioned he was in show choir, but now he wasn't sure. The woman continued her cross-examination.

"Name a play by Ibsen."

"Hedda Gabler?"

Kurt wasn't sure he got that one right, but she didn't even slow down.

"Eliot?"

"Ummm, Murder in the Cathedral."

"O'Neill?"

"The Iceman Cometh."

"Chekov?"

"The Cherry Orchard?"

"Genet?"

Kurt sat still, his eyes a bit unfocused as he thought.

"I'm sorry, I don't know that one," he confessed.

"Not important, I don't care for him anyway," she said with a very small smile, "but if it comes up again, he wrote The Balcony."

Finally, she gave Kurt an encouraging smile, then excused herself to walk behind a screen far across the room. Kurt hadn't even noticed the screen when he came in and wondered who had been listening in. The woman spoke in quiet tones to someone that Kurt couldn't see. She seemed to argue, but was quickly back with Kurt, seating herself behind the desk once more.

"I need to hear your voice as you read," she said and handed Kurt a book. He opened it to where he found a bookmark and began to read. He'd read several paragraphs of what he thought was a play by Noel Coward when the woman stopped him.

"All right, young man, thank you for your interest in the position. I'll be following up in the next ten days with either news that you were not hired or with an offer of employment. Denise will show you out," she said with finality in her voice.

"I don't believe I caught your name?"

"Dr. Margaret Anderson."

"I appreciate the opportunity to speak with you, Dr. Anderson," Kurt said. He held out a hand to shake as he stood to leave. The woman had a very firm handshake which didn't surprise Kurt in the least.

She rang a bell on the desk and the maid came in to escort Kurt to the door.

* * *

**Monday, the next week**

"A Dr. Anderson called for you today," Burt told his son as he walked in from the kitchen one evening. Burt was sitting at the dining table, his flannel shirt-sleeves rolled up and his tanned forearms leaning on the edge as he turned a page of the newspaper.

"Did she leave a message?" Kurt asked.

"Yes. She said you can report to work on Tuesday after school. Did you get a job at the veterinarian clinic or at the hospital?" Burt asked, somewhat surprised that Kurt would want to work in a place that had sick people – his son was somewhat of a germaphobe.

"No, are you kidding? Nope, it's reading to an invalid. I was wondering why some old lady would need to be read to, after all most books are available on audiobooks now."

"Well, you never know. Maybe this old woman wants the company of a fine mannered teenager. In any case, congratulations on finding a job, son. Just don't let it interfere with your school work, okay?" Burt said, smiling at his son. He hoped Kurt would like the job more than getting greasy under the hood of a car.

"Of course not, Dad. Education comes first if I want to get into a good college with a scholarship," Kurt said, smiling back at his dad.

Burt wasn't fooled. "Or it sounded like an easy way to make a few bucks."

Kurt blushed at being found out, but didn't reply except for a shrug of his shoulders. Burt got up and ruffled the carefully combed hair of his son as he left the room to go watch a game on the television in the den.

Kurt gave his dad a frown, then smiled to himself as Burt walked away. He loved his dad.

* * *

**Tuesday afternoon**

Kurt had packed a few classic books in his messenger bag in preparation for the elderly woman he was going to meet today. He had chosen a Jane Austen novel, a Brontë - Emily, not Charlotte because he liked the more romantic tone of Wuthering Heights – along with a book of English poetry.

Kurt rang the bell and looked around at the front garden of the large white mansion. It was a Federal-style house with marble columns holding up the stately front porch. The large windows were balanced on the front facade, making it look very formal and a tad unfriendly. There were red roses in formal beds, blue clematis climbing trellises, and a rainbow of blooming annuals in the gardens that made the whole visage a bit warmer and almost welcoming. Everything about the house made the same contrasting statement.

The door opened and Kurt was greeted by the same woman that had conducted the interview, Dr. Anderson.

"Mr. Hummel, right on time I see," she stated, moving back a step to allow him entrance.

"Yes, Ma'am. It's good to see you again," Kurt replied with polished manners.

"If you'll come this way, I will introduce you to my son," she said, walking up the curved marble stairway. Kurt followed in her footsteps, wondering about this son of hers. Had he mistakenly thought he would be reading to some elderly relative of Dr. Anderson's? How old could her son be? She didn't look older than thirty-five or maybe forty.

They walked down a long hallway and she knocked on the door, but walked in without waiting for an answer.

"My son, Blaine, will require you to read a book from this list," Margaret Anderson said, handing Kurt a hand-written list of the most boring books ever published. Kurt glanced through to see if he liked any of them and found one or two on the list of 30 or so classics. They walked across the room and Dr. Anderson pulled back a curtain to reveal the doors to the balcony. A young man was sitting in a wheelchair, his face to the sun and obscured by dark glasses.

Margaret cleared her throat and Blaine startled, turning his head but seeming to stare over his mother's shoulder. He did not acknowledge Kurt at all.

"Nice to meet you, Blaine," Kurt greeted the boy. He appeared to be close to Kurt's own age and he wondered if it would be rude to ask how old Blaine was. Instead, Blaine frowned and started to move his head but stopped abruptly as if in pain.

"And you are?" Blaine asked in a cold tone.

"This is the young man I hired to read to you, Blaine Devon. Please show some respect for someone who has driven all the way from Lima to do a service for you," Margaret said. She appeared to be irritated, but quickly curbed her tone and continued. "This is Kurt Hummel, from McKinley High School in Lima. He answered my advertisement and we are going to give him a trial to see if he is suitable to be your reader."

"Thank you, Mother. I can take it from here," the boy said pleasantly enough. He waited until he heard her shut the door to the large room before addressing Kurt.

"Hello, Kurt, it's nice to meet you. I'm sorry if Mother comes on a bit strong, she is just worried about me," he said, holding his left hand out as if to shake Kurt's. Kurt hesitated, then awkwardly tried to shake with his right hand causing an ungraceful sort of touching of their hands. Blaine didn't appear to notice and held on to Kurt's hand for a few beats longer than was necessary. Kurt took his hand back slowly and looked at Blaine.

The boy seemed small, almost compact, and had black hair combed into a severely neat presentation. A few unruly curls had escaped, perhaps when he had run his hand through his hair, but that just made him look a bit more endearing to Kurt's eyes. He was in a wheelchair – the type that had wheels on a slight angle like the ones racers in the Special Olympics competed in.

Blaine had on loose khaki trousers, the left leg of which was slit up the side to accommodate a cast or brace or something underneath. In addition, his right arm was in a cast down to his fingertips and by the way he moved, Kurt thought it went up to his shoulder. He wore a loose button-down shirt of pale blue linen, whose right arm was slit like the trousers to accommodate a cast and held together with a row of safety pins.

Blaine wore dark glasses that covered a lot of his face, but Kurt could see he had beautiful clear skin and a smile that made his pink lips look so kissable...No! Kurt told himself. He'd already made himself ridiculous by crushing on Finn and look at how that had turned out. He could appreciate a fine looking boy without getting any romantic ideas. He pulled his eyes from the boy and tried to think of what to say.

He knew the things he was thinking were not appropriate and he wanted to keep this job. Blaine's face, while very nice to look at for it's fine features, was equally difficult because of the damage that had been done to it. His left cheek showed a healing bruise that was still swollen and some bandaged areas. His hands both had bruises and looked as if he'd been punching concrete.

The boy removed the dark glasses to wipe his face with a starched white handkerchief in a nervous way and Kurt saw the black eye and what looked like the edge of a deep cut with stitches just above his right eye. Kurt realized that the reason he was reading for Blaine Anderson was because he couldn't see. Blaine winced and quickly put the dark glasses back on.

"Would you like to have a seat?" Blaine asked and Kurt hummed acceptance. After looking at his choices, Kurt sat in the Wright armchair near the balcony doors.

"I have the list of books your mother provided me, Blaine. Tell me, is it a list of school assignments or just books you'd like to read?" Kurt asked.

Blaine was sitting very still in his wheelchair, seeming to gaze out across the beautiful gardens to the south of the grand house.

"I am required to pick six books from the list to compare, contrast, or review for my literature class. I don't remember what books were on the list, though...it was a while ago when I last read it," Blaine answered.

Kurt read each title and looked at Blaine for a reaction, trying to decide by that which ones he would choose.

"I'm sorry, Mr...ah, Mr..." Blaine said, his voice weak.

"Hummel, it's Kurt Hummel...but please, just call me Kurt."

"Okay, I think I'd be okay with A Separate Peace first, but I feel tired. I don't think I can pick another yet. Would that be okay?" Blaine asked.

"Of course. I'm afraid I don't have a copy of that with me, but I can get one before our next session?" Kurt asked tentatively. He wasn't sure of himself and these opulent surroundings had him off his game.

"Actually, there will be a copy in my mother's library. If you go down the main staircase and to the left, there are double oak doors. Fiction is on the south wall, alphabetical by author," Blaine directed, holding his fingers to his temples as he spoke. He leaned back in the wheelchair, his head thrown forward and resting on his chest.

"Are you okay?" Kurt asked, but the boy just nodded and held his hand up in a sign to shoo Kurt away.

"I'll return in a moment," Kurt said as he got up, setting his messenger bag on the Sheraton desk chair. He was almost at the door when Blaine called him back.

"If you encounter the dog, just tell him to 'find Blaine' and he will come up here. He's a bit intimidating if you don't know him, but he won't hurt you," Blaine instructed.

"Thank you..." Kurt answered, now feeling more shy than before.

* * *

Author's Note: I like to do fun things when I write and for this story, I decided to name the chapters after famous Broadway songs. Chapter One is "Gonna Find My Corner of the Sky" from the 1972 Broadway musical **Pippin** by Stephen Schwartz & Bob Fosse.

The song doesn't really have much to do with the content of the chapter other than it sounded like a good title.


	2. If I Were a Rich Man

**My Reader – Chapter Two – If I Were a Rich Man**

Kurt walked down the marble stairs, trying not to ogle all the furniture and decor that filled his eyes. He loved fashion and design and that love was extended to classic furniture. He could see rich oak, cherry, mahogany, and walnut wood shaped into such beautiful furniture and he wondered if the Sheraton, Hepplewhite, and Chippendale furniture were authentic or reproductions.

With his head in the clouds, his eyes searching through all the gold filigree mirrors, the hand carved newel post, and the huge double oak doors at the library entrance, Kurt didn't notice the large dog that followed him into the room. It wasn't until he heard the sound of something heavy landing on the leather chesterfield sofa that he turned to see what it was.

There on the sofa, his body stretched from one end to the other with parts hanging over the side, was the largest, scariest dog Kurt had ever seen. It was a grizzled gray and black, with wild yellow-green eyes and its mouth looked large enough to drive a Buick inside. Long ivory-colored teeth were on view as the dog yawned wide, then got off the sofa and walked over to inspect Kurt. It looked like the Hound of the Baskervilles.

With his hand on his heart, Kurt tried to give the dog the command Blaine had told him about.

"Nice doggie, go and find Blaine, okay?" Kurt stuttered faintly. He was imagining his whole arm being bitten off for the dog's snack. It ignored his conversational voice and continued to sniff at Kurt's crotch. Kurt's hands instinctively covered the front of his trousers in fear of being castrated by the dog's huge teeth. This was totally unnerving.

"Hey, doggie, are you gay? You need to learn a better pick-up technique," he laughed nervously, then thought perhaps he needed to make the command actually _sound_ like a command. "Go find Blaine. Find Blaine," he said in as deep a voice as he could muster. The dog turned around and trotted out of the library.

Kurt shook his head, remembering why he was there. He located the book immediately among the novels on the south wall and with a last glance around the room, he followed in the dog's footsteps back up the marble staircase.

Upon entering Blaine's room, Kurt was feeling shy. He wasn't comfortable with walking around Blaine's mansion and he was still feeling apprehensive about the huge dog. He stopped in front of the door, tucking his shirt in his pants again and making sure his waistcoat was in proper order. He blushed, realizing that Blaine couldn't see him. So Kurt worried about that instead – he had learned by instinct that hiding himself in his choice of clothes was a valuable thing to do. If the bullies were making fun of what he wore, they weren't saying hurtful things about his own physical body or assassinating his character. It wasn't a perfect solution, but so far it worked for him.

Blaine, however, couldn't see him, so there was no hiding behind the fashions. He would have to be very careful about how he conducted himself from now on.

The huge dog sat up, pricking his ears towards Kurt. Blaine tensed up, seeming to look from side to side, but getting a frustrated look on his face, he spoke.

"Kurt? Is that you?" he asked, confused.

"Yes, I was just walking back into the room..." Kurt said.

"Well, what were you doing sneaking up on me? Did you think it would be fun to scare the crippled blind kid? Did you give any thought at all about telling me you were in the room?" Blaine snapped, crossing his arms in front of his chest as best he could while being inhibited by the arm cast.

"No. Ah...I mean yes, of course. I'm sorry – such a breech of manners, I'm sorry. I should have announced myself. Please accept my apology," Kurt said quietly, nattering on because he was embarrassed. It wasn't often that he was caught in a social _faux pas_.

"It's fine," Blaine said, but by the tone in his voice Kurt could tell it was anything but fine. He studied Blaine's face to see if he was forgiven, but it did not appear so.

"I am not often that tactless, Mr. Anderson, and I do apologize. I was looking at your dog, I'm afraid he startled me, but that is no excuse. I will remember the next time. Can I ask something personal of you?" Kurt asked, going forward with trepidation.

"I would rather you didn't. You have been hired to read to me, not to remind me of my short-comings. Please. Did you _manage_ to find a copy of the book?" Blaine asked, sarcasm dripping from his words.

"Of course. And yes, I did find the book. Would you like me to begin?" Kurt asked.

Blaine nodded, then snapped his fingers to get the dog's attention. He pointed at the floor and the dog laid down and put his head on his paws. Stretched out across the floor, the dog was about seven feet from his nose to the tip of his long, skinny tail.

Kurt was just opening the book, being very careful as he glanced at the beginning pages. He noticed that the book was signed by the author and he smiled. Of course it was.

"Thank you for the advice on the dog...he obeyed exactly as you said he would. He is smart to be able to learn commands like that – have you had him a long time?" Kurt asked as he located the correct page.

"He's three now, and yes, we have had him since he was born. My uncle breeds Irish wolfhounds and he gave me Macushla for my 13th birthday," Blaine said and Kurt was glad the boy had finally said something friendly that reflected himself. He was turning out to be a hard person to get to know.

"Macushla?" Kurt asked, curious at the unusual name.

"It's Irish. It means _'the beating of my heart'_. My uncle said I would grow to love him, so he helped me pick out his name," Blaine explained. He was smiling a bit more, but that wasn't a lot. Kurt got the impression that Blaine was not an easy person to know and wondered if he'd always been like that. He sighed under his breath, opening the cover to A Separate Peace and looked down at the page. He began the story of Gene and Phineas and their relationship at Devon Boys Prep School in the first days of World War II. He remembered the story from when he'd read it a few years ago and wondered why Blaine had chosen this one, but the thought didn't stay long in his head as he began to read and got lost in the story.

"A Separate Peace

by John Knowles

Chapter 1

I went back to the Devon School not long ago, and found it looking oddly newer than when I was a student there fifteen years before. It seemed more sedate than I remembered it, more perpendicular and strait-laced, with narrower windows and shinier woodwork, as though a coat of varnish had been put over everything for better preservation. But, of course, fifteen years before there had been a war going on. Perhaps the school wasn't as well kept up in those days; perhaps varnish, along with everything else, had gone to war."

Blaine sat quietly in his wheelchair, the sun shining down on the floor in front of him. It crept quietly across the maple floorboards, counting the minutes as Kurt read. Macushla moved in slight increments to keep his body in the warmth of the sunlight. Blaine finally realized that it had probably been over two hours that Kurt had been reading.

"Let's stop there for today. I think I'm getting a headache," Blaine said when Kurt stopped for a sip of water.

"Okay, that sounds fine," Kurt agreed and stood up to stretch his arms, which had become cramped sitting in the same place for so long. "Oh! I didn't mean that you getting a headache was fine – I meant..."

Blaine stopped him with a hand in the air.

"I understood what you meant, Mr Hummel. No need for explanations or apologies. I am blind, not an imbecile. It's fine," Blaine said.

"Thank you."

"When are you going to be back?" Blaine asked, his hand out to pet the dog that was now leaning on the side of the wheelchair.

"Your mother asked me to come on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays," Kurt said.

"Hah! My mother never _asked_ anyone anything in her life. She _told_ you to be here - right?" Blaine said bitterly.

"I'm sorry. Yes, that is when she told me to be here." Kurt was blushing all the way up to his cheeks. It was so embarrassing. He hated his pale skin that showed each and every slight change in his demeanor. It was even more embarrassing that Blaine had caught him telling an untruth. He hadn't meant to lie, he just didn't want to seem judgmental of Blaine's mother.

"I will see you on Wednesday then. Would you like me to bring anything else to read? I have some nice books of poetry if you'd like a break from A Separate Peace?" Kurt offered.

"No. I need to study the books she assigns. She will have tests on the reading material."

"Okay then. Goodbye, Blaine." Kurt said, gathering his things.

"Goodbye, Kurt." Blaine said and his tone was not as abrupt as it had been for most of the time. He slowly turned his wheelchair to face the balcony so the sun fell on him as Kurt walked away.

As he walked down the empty staircase, Kurt watched for any more huge dogs or other scary things, but the front hall was quiet. He chastised himself – what was he expecting? A dragon under the stairs? He let himself out the door, wondering if he should actually be using the servants entrance or something. He banished that thought and got in his Navigator, driving around the rest of the circle drive and out the front gates.

* * *

Burt set the bowl of fresh berries in front of his son and sat down across the table with his own bowl. He added a dollop of the cream he'd just whipped on top of each bowl.

Kurt immediately ate some of the whipped cream, leaving a bit on his lip. Burt didn't say anything, he thought the tiny bit made Kurt look younger, like when he was four or five and their lives were warmed by the presence of Elizabeth. It was a good feeling in his chest to think of his wife, and he let his thoughts drift for a moment. Kurt wiped his lips with the napkin and the image was gone.

Burt took a spoon of the berries with a bit of cream and savored the tangy, sweet flavor. He and Kurt both loved fresh berries and these were especially good. Since he had changed to shopping at the new natural food store and the local farmer's market things were a bit more expensive but tasted better – a good-enough trade by Burt's way of thinking.

He stopped to watch Kurt eat. Kurt had always been particular in what he ate, even as a young child. If they had ice cream, Kurt would chop it with his spoon, then mash the lumps and finally stir it until it was a partially melted mixture before he'd take a single bite. Yes, Kurt had his way of doing things for sure.

"Finish your homework?" Burt asked as Kurt inspected the berries in his bowl, pushing each one into a separate place: strawberry pieces in one quadrant, blackberries next to the raspberries, and blueberries in the final place. The whipping cream was left in the center.

"Yeah. I had to call Demetri to finish the French assignment – I missed class today," Kurt said, then realized he had let his tongue slip.

"Why did you miss class?" Of course Burt pounced on that immediately. Education was one thing he was very strict about.

"I was painting scenery for the play and lost track of time. It's okay, Mr. Schuester wrote me an excuse and I made up the work. Madame Marsden loves me, it will be okay." Well, that much was true anyway. He didn't mention that he was only painting for a short time before Dave Karofsky walked by the room and saw him alone. He had come in, spilled the cup of paint across the boards and left after giving Kurt a kick to his leg. Kurt spent the rest of the hour in the nurse's office with an ice pack on his knee.

"Okay, buddy. What about the rest? I know you hate geometry – though that makes no sense to me since you love calculus," Burt laughed.

"I guess theoretical numbers make more sense in my brain than concrete ones?" Kurt laughed, happy to change the subject. "We didn't have any homework in math, and before you ask – I am done with the history paper, read the chapter for Literature, and did the extra credit assignment for English."

"Good for you, Kurt. That's what I like to hear," Burt cheered his son on. He really was proud of how well Kurt did in school. He, himself, had been a solid B student except in math and drafting, in which he had excelled. He'd taken all the math classes his high school had offered and that included bookkeeping and accounting. As a result he was able to do his own books for the shop.

They sat in silence as he watched Kurt eat the bowl of berries. He knew which ones his son was going to eat and when because it hadn't changed since he was little. First the strawberry pieces, then the blueberries which he ate one at a time. Next he counted how many blackberries there were - seven – and how many raspberries – three. Now he ate four blackberries so there were an even number of blackberries to raspberries. Next he divided the whipped cream into three parts and ate one part of whipped cream, one raspberry, and one blackberry until they were gone.

"Something wrong, Dad?" Kurt asked.

Burt shook his head, not realizing he'd been staring at his son eat.

"No, kiddo. I guess I'm just tired. How was your first day on the job, buddy? Was the old lady at least nice?" Burt asked his son. He wanted Kurt to succeed at this job, in spite of the fact that Kurt knew there was always a job waiting for him at his dad's garage. He had worked for his dad the last few summers and Burt knew he didn't really hate the job. Kurt might not care for getting his hands dirty, but he had caught on quickly how to take care of cars, how to do mechanical repairs, and how engines work.

No, Kurt had explained to his father that he needed to learn how to get a job by himself – a job working for someone other than his father. It would help him once he got into the real world of New York where he wanted to live. He had a point and Burt always wanted the best for his boy.

"Actually, Dad, it wasn't for some elderly relative like I thought...it was for her son. I think he was in some kind of bad accident. He is in a wheelchair with casts on his arm and leg, all kinds of bruises and stitched cuts on his face. He doesn't act like he's been blind for very long. I guess his mother just wants him to keep up with school work because she gave me a long list of books to read to him."

"Oh, that's too bad, poor kid. Remember to be kind to him, son."

"Gosh, Dad, what do you think I am? Of course I was nice to him," Kurt frowned.

"Well, I wouldn't expect anything else, kiddo," Burt smiled.

"I'll clean up tonight," Kurt offered, walking by his dad as he gathered the dishes. He gave his dad an awkward hug as he passed. "I love you."

"I love you too, Kurt."

* * *

Kurt laid across his bed, pajamas on and his notebooks and papers in front of him. He had sharpened his pencil several times, moved from his desk to the floor and then to his bed, but he still wasn't comfortable. This homework assignment was easy, so why couldn't he concentrate on it? He'd done most of the problems during Glee club to fill the boredom as Rachel complained once more to Mr. Scheuster about her lack of opportunities.

Kurt was down to the last three formulas for math, but he just couldn't make himself finish.

He rolled over, pushing the math book to the floor along with his notebook. Maybe he just needed rest. He'd go to sleep and do the problems in the morning before school.

Climbing under the covers and turning off his lamp, Kurt closed his eyes and tried to go to sleep, but his mind was tumbling. Over and over, nothing concrete showing itself over and above all the other things in his mind.

After about twenty minutes of this, Kurt finally fell asleep. Then the dreams began, cluing Kurt in on what was bothering him. It was Blaine Anderson.

Kurt was walking in the woods – one of those fantastic places that you know cannot be real, but you don't want to leave. You want the dream to go on forever...

_Kurt could see - even though mist or smoke or fog was all around him. Down the path where he was traveling Kurt could see something in the far horizon through a tunnel of fog – a person walking towards him. It went on for a while, the silhouette gaining ground as it moved towards Kurt. It finally became clear who it was and Kurt wasn't surprised to find it was Blaine, but a Blaine that hadn't been in an accident. He wasn't tall, but he had beautiful muscles that were firm and very visible but not bulky. He walked with a swagger almost, as though he knew he was worth looking at. Plus, he was naked._

_Kurt just kept walking. He knew this meeting was meant to be somehow so he continued to walk towards Blaine, studying his body. And Blaine didn't mind, he tensed his muscles and stood up straighter. They were finally face to face and Blaine just leaned forward, taking Kurt into his arms and kissed him, a long romantic kiss in which every inch of their bodies fit perfectly together. Kurt began to shake, then the whole forest around him was shaking. Kurt grasped Blaine by his wrists, holding tightly. He was afraid he would disappear forever..._

"Kurt, hey kiddo, wake up," Burt said, shaking the bed again. He knew Kurt didn't like to be touched, so he had found better ways of waking him when he forgot to set his alarm.

Kurt rolled over, his hand covering his crotch as his erection refused to calm down. Lucky for him, he was under the covers. He sat up, pulling his hand out from under the covers and pulling one foot closer to his body to hide the lump in the bed that was his erection.

"Ah...yeah, Dad?"

"Kurt, you forgot to set your alarm again. Or you shut it off a while ago...? Sorry, I can't hear through these walls," Burt said, hoping this would get the boy up and starting to get ready for school. Kurt was notorious for getting angry if you woke him up early.

"I'm awake now. Thank you, Dad. Are we eating breakfast together?" Kurt asked, his hand covering his mouth to hide a yawn.

"Sorry, Kiddo – I ate an hour ago. I'm off to the shop, I just wanted to be sure you were up. I'll see you for supper," Burt said, reaching out to place a hand to Kurt's cheek before giving him a smile and turning to go.

"Wow, what's the matter with me?" Kurt asked aloud in the empty house. It was over an hour past the time he thought he'd set the alarm. He checked it and it looked like he did wake up and hit the snooze or just set it to 'off' when it had not quite woken him up this morning.

He made quick work of taking his morning shower and getting dressed. Lucky for him, he had set out his clothes the night before.

With a quick stop in the kitchen, he grabbed a bagel and smeared it with cream cheese, adding some slices of fresh mango. He was out the door and off to school. If he skipped his coffee stop at The Lima Bean, he could save enough time to do his math before American History started.

* * *

**Wednesday**

"So, Kurt...I heard you got an after school job. Is that true?" asked Brittany as they entered the choir room together.

"Yes, I did. Who told you?" he asked.

"Miss Pillsbury. She said you had taken down one of the job offers on her board. I knew if you went for an interview that you'd get the job."

"And how did you know that?" Kurt asked, curious about how his friend would explain this.

"Remember when we were in fifth grade and I couldn't climb the rope in gym? You whispered to me that you had faith in me that I could – and I did. I have the same faith in you," Brittany smiled.

"Well, thank you. Yes, I did get the job," Kurt smiled back. He was reminded once again how much he liked Brittany.

Rachel entered the room, her eyes sad as she dropped down in one of the chairs to wait for the rest of the Glee gang. She was quiet today, not running her mouth as usual. Kurt guessed that she was having boy problems with whomever she was trying to date now. He thought it was Finn Hudson, but was never sure. Glee club was like a soap opera and you needed a score card to figure out who was dating whom.

Finn entered the room, took a glance at Rachel and started to walk towards her. She got up and came to sit on the end of the row Kurt was sitting in, moving the chair close to him. Finn rolled his eyes and went to the other end - by Santana – who gave him a death glare and removed herself to go sit by Brittany and Quinn. It was beginning to look more like a square dance than a choir rehearsal.

Mr Shue entered and class began. The students turned their attention to him and Kurt forgot to think about the repositioning of the dating students in the class.

After class, Rachel stayed by Kurt's side. She clung to his arm as they walked to his car. Finn started to follow, but then stopped when Rachel turned her face away from him.

"Thank you, Kurt. I just could not bear speaking to him today. I heard he was talking to Quinn at lunch again," Rachel whined.

"And that's a crime now?" Kurt asked, wondering if his humor ever reached Rachel.

"You don't understand, Kurt, but you can sit with me for a while. Can we go to the coffee shop?" Rachel asked.

"I'm sorry, Rach, but I have to go to work. I don't have time to get coffee, but maybe this weekend?" Kurt asked, trying to soothe his friend.

"If I'm around. I might see if my dads will send me somewhere to visit – I have a lot of aunts and uncles in Cincinnati," Rachel said, a sad frown on her face.

"Call Mercedes – you know she will do anything for you. Now I have to go, my job is not a place I can be tardy to," Kurt said, wanting to get away from Rachel when she was in this mood.

"Okay, Kurt. I will see you tomorrow," Rachel said, pulling on his shoulder so he would lean closer. She kissed his cheek and gave him a smile before turning to skip to her car. Skip. Only Rachel would skip. Kurt shook his head, knowing that he would never really understand her.

He walked across the parking lot and got into his Navigator, checking that he had his homework in his bag before pulling out and heading towards Westerville and his puzzling new job.

* * *

Driving up to the front of the Anderson mansion, Kurt got out of his SUV and walked up to the stairs. The huge wolfhound was laying in front of the bright red door. He gave Kurt a nice view of his ivory-colored teeth.

"Hey, Macushla, don't you remember me, boy? I come to read to your master, fella," he said, his voice reaching up the scale. He held out his hand and Cush sniffed, the end of his tail thumping on the stone steps. He got up, groaning as only a large dog can, and pushed his head into Kurt's hand.

"There, there, fella. I knew you would remember me," he said, feeling just a bit foolish speaking to a dog.

The large red double doors opened and Dr. Anderson stepped out, looking up at the last moment and avoiding stepping on Kurt's toes.

"Oh...Mr. Hummel. Right on time I see. I value punctuality. I am on my way to a meeting, so I trust you can show yourself up to Blaine's room?" she said, her tone dismissing him.

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you," Kurt said, his early training in politeness making his answer automatic. He moved past the big dog and into the foyer, not noticing that Dr. Anderson let Macushla in after him until the dog pushed past him on the staircase.

Kurt took a deep breath and knocked on Blaine's door, waiting for the boy to call out before he entered. He remembered this time to announce himself as he walked in.

"Good afternoon, Blaine. It's good to see you," Kurt said.

"Oh. Is that supposed to be some sort of humor?" Blaine asked, crossing his arms over his chest. He frowned.

"Oh...no! No, of course not. I just meant...good afternoon..." Kurt stuttered, blushing in embarrassment.

"We had best get busy. I need to get this book done," Blaine said in a curt voice.

Kurt rolled his eyes and took the book off the shelf. It was the part where Phineas falls from the tree – not a good part of the book – and Kurt wanted to get through it quickly. He read for over an hour when his voice started to give out and Blaine looked sleepy.

"That's enough for today, Kurt. Thank you," Blaine said, turning his wheelchair so he was facing the sun. Macushla pushed his nose under Blaine's hand and Kurt saw the boy smile for the first time that day. He couldn't help but smile himself, Blaine was so nice to look at when he smiled.

"Good bye, Blaine. I hope you have a pleasant evening," Kurt said as he gathered his things and replaced the book on the shelf.

"Good night," Blaine returned, dismissal in his voice.

Kurt walked down the long staircase with a heavy heart.

* * *

 _The song "If I Were A Rich Man"_ is from the 1976 Broadway musical **Fiddler on the Roof** by Jerry Bock & Sheldon Harnick _._

_Yes, I know...you're groaning because here's_ **another** _dog in my Klaine story. I love dogs (I have five of my own: a toy poodle, a whippet, a boxer, a rough collie, and a puppy from the litter when my collie & boxer decided to procreate) and my daughter has an Irish wolfhound. Because of my love for that dog, I had to include a wolfhound in one of my stories. Lucy, my daughter's dog, would approve._


	3. Getting To Know You

**My Reader – Chapter Three – Getting To Know You**

Kurt had been reading to Blaine for a month now and the injured boy was slowly relaxing. Macushla greeted Kurt at the door most days, wagging his long, long tail and walking up the grand staircase beside him on his way to Blaine's bedroom. Well, the room where he read to Blaine – it wasn't a bedroom, more of a sitting room with a desk, bookcases, and chairs. It had doors at the east and south sides, and French doors that led to a large balcony on the west side. The weather was getting warmer as the days led into May and the balcony doors were open most days.

So far Kurt and Blaine hadn't really said much of a personal nature to each other. Blaine mentioned his holiday in France from time to time. Kurt had always dreamed of going to France, so he was full of questions about it. Blaine would start to tell him things, like his morning trips to the bakery for freshly made pastries or descriptions of the art at the Louvre. Blaine waxed absolutely poetic about the Vermeer exhibit that was showing while he was there.

"What was your favorite piece of art? Did you see the Mona Lisa?" Kurt asked.

"I did see her – they have the painting in a dark room and the dim light only comes on for a few moments, then the museum guards usher you out.

"No, my favorite wasn't a painting. It was a statue: _Psyche Revived By Cupid's Kiss_ by Antonio Canova. It was - I can't even find the adjectives to describe it, it was so breathtaking, maybe because it was one of the last things I ever saw..." Blaine said, blinking his eyes.

"Oh?"

"The accident happened as I was walking home," Blaine said in a broken voice and a few tears came down his cheeks. Kurt was moved to tears himself seeing Blaine so broken and before he'd thought about it, he had his clean handkerchief in his hand and was dabbing the tears from Blaine's face. He took the boy's hand and held it for a moment, not sure how to comfort him.

"Thank you for your concern, but I'm fine," Blaine suddenly snapped. "Reading time is over now."

"But, Blaine, I have only been reading for ten minutes!" Kurt blurted out. He didn't want to leave already, he loved coming to read to Blaine.

"I need to get busy writing the paper contrasting A Separate Peace with Catcher in the Rye. I have a deadline and Mother has no patience with excuses," the boy said, his words crisp and precise. Kurt knew when he did that it meant he was irritated or upset and could be caustic or downright cruel.

"Okay, I understand," he said sadly. He had finished Catcher in the Rye just a few days ago and they were on to a few D.H. Lawrence short stories. He'd just started The Rockinghorse Winner and he wanted to finish it. Breaking up the story into several readings would ruin the rhythm that was so important to understanding the story. They still had The Fox, The Ladybird, and The Captain's Doll to plow through before going on to another author.

"Kurt...don't," Blaine said and Macushla got up and went to his master, trying to perch his front feet on the wheelchair to reach Blaine's face. He finally settled for licking his hand. It made Kurt want to pull Blaine close and hold him for a while and he wondered if he got a lot of affection from his mother, which led to him wondering about Blaine's father and if he were in the picture. He had never met the man and nobody had ever mentioned him.

"Don't? Don't what?" Kurt asked.

"Don't leave?" Blaine made it sound like a question and Kurt was a bit shaken up at his pleading tone. Blaine Anderson had seemed anything but vulnerable in the days Kurt had been reading to him.

"Of course I won't if you want me to stay," he said kindly, thinking of how tenderhearted his own dad could be.

"Can you type?"

"Yes, about 40 words a minute. Not all that fast, but I can hold my own. Why?" Kurt asked.

"Well, duh," Blaine snarled.

Kurt could be kind, but he had his limits and Blaine was treading on the edge now.

"Blaine, if you want me to stay, I need to be spoken to in a cordial way. I do not respond well to being snapped at," he said in an even voice.

"I didn't mean to be rude," Blaine back-peddled, "Honestly, I am sorry. I am so miserable and I let it seep into my speech. Please accept my apology."

Kurt leaned forward from his seat in a comfortable over-stuffed chair and took Blaine's hand in his.

"Of course. I cannot imagine having to be in that chair, your eyesight gone. I'd be punching tigers if it were me," he sympathized.

Blaine said nothing, just squeezed Kurt's hand and gave him a grim smile.

"Why did you ask about my typing skills? Is there something I can do to help you?" Kurt asked.

"Well, yes, if you think it might be something you want to do. My mother's secretary comes once a week and types my work for me since I can't really type or write. I have the arguments and contrasts in my head for the English Lit paper – comparing Separate Peace with Catcher – but by the time she comes on Friday, I am so tired it's hard to dictate. Plus, she makes me nervous. I feel good about you, Kurt, in terms of being comfortable, so I wondered if you could type what I dictate?" he inquired.

"Of course I can," Kurt offered, happy to help him.

"My laptop is on the desk," Blaine pointed to the French doors.

"Uhhh...it's out on the balcony?" Kurt asked, confused.

"Oh, I'm turned around. No, the desk?" he moved his head as if he were a dog searching for a scent.

Kurt got up and moved in back of the wheelchair, touching Blaine's shoulder so he knew he was there, and leaned over to release the brake. He pushed the chair near the desk and started to sit, but stopped when he felt a cool breeze coming from the open doors.

"Do you want me to close the doors? I don't want you to get chilled," Kurt offered.

"No, I love the smell of the lilacs. It's funny, but just the smell of them brings a picture of running through the back gardens with Macushla in the spring," he said with a wistful look on his face. Kurt smiled. "Could you just get me the knit afghan on my bed to cover my legs? Oh – unless you're cold?"

"No, I'm fine. Where do I go...?"

"My bedroom is just through the door," Blaine said, waving in the general direction.

Kurt walked through the door into a wonderland of colors. Blaine's room was a neutral blue, but there were shelves of all sorts of things. There were displays of rocks and crystals, shelves filled with sea shells, corals, and scientific instruments, and a wall of musical instruments. It was amazing. He stood for a minute, looking at all the things before going across the room to a large 4-poster bed and picking up a rainbow-striped afghan that was folded neatly at the foot of the bed.

He returned to the sitting room and tucked it around Blaine's legs very gently. Blaine had the large cast on his leg removed last week and now there was an air-cast on the leg and Kurt had noticed him wince occasionally when he shifted his weight in the chair.

Blaine's hand went up and touched Kurt's arm, his fingers going over his bicep and a shadow of a smile came across his face. Kurt worked hard on his physique, lifting the weights his father bought him last Christmas and was pleasantly surprised at the warm feeling he got when he realized Blaine approved of his muscles.

"There, are you warm enough or do you need a sweater?" Kurt asked, partly because he wanted Blaine to be comfortable, but partly because he wanted to go into the magnificent room again.

"There is a chest of drawers in the closet, the first door as you walk in. In the third drawer down should be a brick red cardigan on top. I would appreciate it so much if you could bring that to me?" he asked politely.

"Of course," Kurt answered, a grin on his face. He didn't want to be snoopy, but he wanted to look in the room again. It was like a museum.

He went back, locating the double doors to the closet and opened them. Inside was another room, almost the size of his own bedroom, filled with built-in chests of drawers, shelves of shoes, and line after line of neatly hung clothes. Trousers, shirts, jackets, suits, and a wide section of bow ties displayed like artwork. Kurt was lost in all the splendor for a few long moments before remembering why he was there and locating the cardigan. He quickly closed the door to the wonderful closet and went back through the room to Blaine.

"Did you get lost?" Blaine asked.

"No, I was looking at the rocks and seashells and everything. I'm sorry, that wasn't right for me to snoop. It was just so interesting," he confessed.

"Oh, no problem. I forgot about that. I am so wrapped up in myself...please, Kurt, accept my apology. I am not myself these days. That's the reason, but not the excuse. There is no excuse for me being rude," Blaine admonished himself.

"Oh, Blaine, don't worry. I understand. It must have turned your whole world upside-down. Anyone might be forgiven for being off their game after that."

"But I am not 'anyone'. I am an Anderson, and that leaves no room for excuses," Blaine said sadly. Kurt had no idea what to say, so he held the sweater and touched Blaine's hand for him to put it into the sweater sleeve. He deftly got the sweater in place, snugging it around Blaine's neck and settling it across the front. Blaine smiled up at him.

"Thank you, Kurt. This goes above and beyond your job description. I will make sure Mother compensates you."

That did not sit well with Kurt.

"No, I would rather work that out with you, if you don't mind?"

"Oh. Well, of course, how much would you think fair?" Blaine asked. He'd seen his mother negotiate with employees before and thought he could do this. He set a determined look on his face and lifted an eyebrow.

"I want to be friends with you, Blaine. I want you to smile. That's all I want, okay?"

Blaine was taken by surprise. The boys he knew would never have thought to ask that. Making 'friends' was a political and calculating game with them and Blaine had learned at a young age how to play. Kurt had no idea of the rules, and Blaine suddenly found that very, very refreshing.

"Okay, Kurt. Deal." He held out his hand and Kurt shook, though very gently because his arm was still in a cast.

"Let's get this paper going. I have another hour and a half, so we can get a lot done," Kurt smiled.

"I'm getting tired," Blaine said when Kurt had read back the work they'd done over the past hour.

"Okay. I saved it into a folder I see on the desktop titled 'Schoolwork'. I put it in the English Lit folder in there," Kurt said so Blaine would be able to tell someone where to find it.

"Thank you, Kurt. I love that we got so much done. It's harder to work with Miss Eudora. She's nice and all, but I get the feeling she is uncomfortable around me."

"Well, I like working with you, Blaine, and I am comfortable. Can I ask a personal question, though?"

"Maybe."

Kurt laughed.

"Do you play all of those instruments in your room?" he asked.

"More or less. I was trained first on classic violin, then I sort of taught myself the guitar and cello. I can play keyboards – I have a grand piano my parents got me for my 15th birthday downstairs in the music room. One of the guys at my school has a set of drums and I can play those. Well, I could before the accident," he ended with a sad note.

"There is so much I want to know about you, Blaine, but I don't want you to be uncomfortable with my questions," Kurt blurted out.

"You want to know about the accident?"

Kurt nodded, then realized Blaine couldn't see him.

"I am curious, if that's okay."

"Quite understandable," Blaine said, settling himself into his chair. "Well, I was walking home from the museum. Our townhouse in on the right bank in Paris and not terribly far from the Louvre. I guess I wasn't being very careful and my friend and I were shoving each other, just horsing around. His parents and mine have been friends forever, and we have been pals since we were babies. Anyway, he shoved me and I tripped and fell into the street. A van was coming at a fast rate and I guess the driver tried to stop, but he was too late. Sebastian saw what was happening and tried to pull me back, but we both got hit," Blaine said.

The retelling of his tragedy was more than Blaine could take and he started sobbing. Kurt rushed over to hug him and Blaine's fists twisted in Kurt's shirt, the boy's face on his shoulder as he cried.

"Oh, Blaine, I am so sorry, so sorry..." Kurt tried to soothe him. He put his arms around the smaller boy and combed his fingers through his hair. There were no words that didn't sound trite and useless, so Kurt just started humming and held Blaine as best he could leaning over the wheelchair.

It was a while before Blaine could gather himself enough to calm down.

"I am so full of apologies today it's shameful, but I find myself having to apologize once again," he murmured.

"No, Blaine. Remember, we're friends now and friends don't have to apologize for needing comfort. I'm here for you, anytime you need me," Kurt said sincerely.

"Really?" Blaine didn't seem to understand that.

"Of course. Like your other friends," Kurt said, thinking Blaine was just a bit confused because he was tired.

"No, my other friends wouldn't be like that. They would tell me to buck up and stay strong," Blaine explained. "And I barely know you."

"Oh. Well, that's not the kind of friend I am. I don't mind if you show your vulnerable side, Blaine. I will be here for you."

Blaine just sat still, thinking over this new definition of friendship. It sounded nice.

"Can I help you get more comfortable? You look like you're hurting," Kurt offered.

"I'm mostly tired. Can you help me into my bed?" Blaine asked. "Parker isn't here this afternoon. He gets me into bed at night."

"Sure," Kurt agreed and wheeled Blaine into the bedroom. He helped Blaine off with his shoes and cardigan sweater, then turned down the bedclothes.

"Ah, I don't want to be personal, but do you need to use the restroom before you take a nap?" Kurt asked.

Blaine blushed deeply and turned his head.

"Ah, yeah I do. If you can just wheel me in there, I can do the rest," he said.

"Okay."

When they got back, Kurt lifted Blaine into his bed, tucking the blankets around him.

"Stay for a few minutes?" Blaine asked.

"Sure."

Blaine patted the bed and Kurt sat down.

"I won't always be blind. That's why Mother isn't sending me to a school to learn Braille or anything. It has to do with my head injury, the tissue is swollen around the optic nerves. The nerves are fine, the swollen tissue just has to reduce and then the nerves will work again," Blaine explained, suddenly worried Kurt would think he's lazy for not carrying on with his life.

"That's good. Will it come back slowly or all at once?"

"I don't know. The doctor didn't say and I didn't think to ask. I wish it would happen soon, though. I want to _see_ you."

"What about the way they always do it in the movies? You can feel me with your hands and then know sort of what I look like?" Kurt offered, then wondered at himself. _Since when does Kurt Hummel let someone touch his face?_

"Are you sure you don't mind another guy touching you so intimately?" Blaine asked.

Kurt was silent for a moment. Obviously Blaine is unaware of Kurt's sexual orientation, he can't see how Kurt dresses and he doesn't have a put-on lisp or anything that might be a clue. They haven't had so many conversations that this kind of information had been exchanged. Should he mention it? He's pretty sure Blaine is gay – his list of books he chose to read was all gay authors and there are other subtle clues.

"Oh, okay – no, I can feel you're uncomfortable with that. No problem. I understand, of course," Blaine said and seemed to shut down, sliding down a bit in the bed and moving his head so he wasn't facing Kurt as directly. It is heartbreaking, really, to see him shrink away and that tears at Kurt more than he thought it could.

"No, Blaine. You don't understand. I am fine with you touching me, I promise. I was debating whether or not to tell you that I'm gay. That's all," Kurt reassured him.

"I'm gay, too."

"I kind of figured that...when I read your list of books you wanted to read: Oscar Wilde, Tennessee Williams, Marcel Proust, Truman Capote, Langston Hughes? And we're reading D.H. Lawrence? The only relationship I see between them is that they're all gay. That's why you picked them, right?" Kurt asked.

"Yes. Do you think Mother will notice? Oh, my God, did she hire you just because you're gay? Was that, like, a prerequisite in the advertisement or something?" Blaine asked in horror.

"No...no, of course not. I think that would be illegal. She might have guessed from the way I dress, though. I am sort of..."parade gay", if you get my meaning?"

"What? Flamboyant? Nothing wrong with that," Blaine grinned. "At the risk of sounding inappropriate - what are you wearing?" he laughed and Kurt was relieved to hear the sound. It might be the first time he's heard Blaine actually laugh out loud and he loves the sound.

"I might have on tight skinny jeans – black – and a Karl Lagerfeld, charcoal gray button-down shirt with white cuffs and collar, and a white vest with a chain," Kurt described. "Oh, and a scarlet cravat."

"Oh, yeah...you're gay," Blaine laughed again, but in a kind way. "All right, I will take you up on your offer to touch you. You're face, I mean!" he blushed. Kurt grinned.

"Here, give me your hand," he said and guided the blind boy's fingers to touch his face. It was strange to feel the soft touch as Blaine searched along his eyelids and lips. Blaine took his time, feeling every inch including his ears and hair. Kurt didn't miss the intake of breath or the almost silent gasp of air as he touched his lips.

Finally, Blaine was done and took back his hand, letting it stay in the air as he contemplated moving to touch Kurt's arms or chest, but his courage failed him and he set his hands back in his lap.

"Do you want to take off your sunglasses before you lie down?" Kurt asked, grasping at the first thought to lighten the heaviness in the air. The Blaine of a few weeks ago would have snapped his head off, but now the boy gave him a shy smile and took them off, folding them and handed them to Kurt to set beside the bed.

"You have beautiful eyes, Blaine," Kurt said as he looked into the golden-brown irises. It was a bit unnerving to have them unfocused and directed at the window, but that only let the light highlight the honey color that changed to warm toffee as he moved his eyes to where he thought Kurt was sitting.

"Thank you. Ah...what color are your eyes?"

"Blue. And my hair is chestnut brown – like my mother's. I have very pale skin, a few freckles, and I was chubby a few years ago. My dad bought me some weights and I lift now. I tried this fad diet – it's called eating less and working out hard," Kurt laughed.

Blaine laughed, too.

"It's starting to pay off. I have lost over 30 pounds and gained a bit of muscle. I think puberty helped me along with that, though," Kurt said. Blaine held out his hand, as if asking Kurt to prove it.

He took Blaine's hand and sets it on his arm, letting Blaine feel his bicep. Blaine smiled and shyly moved his hand over the muscles, moving up to Kurt's shoulder and down his chest. He feels Kurt shiver as he touched his tight belly and Blaine pulled back quickly, aware suddenly he might have over-stepped.

"What color are your eyes – and I don't mean 'blue'. I mean, is it denim blue? Or closer to royal blue? Dutch blue? Go over to my mirror and look into your own eyes and describe them to me as if you were Langston Hughes or Emily Dickinson," Blaine begged. He needed to know more about Kurt and he cursed his eyes for not being able to let him see.

Kurt walked over to the mirror as asked and gazed into his own eyes, trying to think how he would describe them if he were looking at someone else.

"They are light cornflower blue right now, with gold and yellow sprinkled through – like the sun shining in the summer sky. When I'm moody, though, they turn darker, the color of the sky still, but just before a storm. My dad tells me they are my best feature. When I was a kid, my grandma stayed with me during the time he was at work. Dad said he would look at the sky and think about my eyes looking up at him and it would make him feel less lonely for me."

"Oh, Kurt, that is so lovely. You must have a great relationship with your parents."

"Oh, well, that might be a conversation for another day," he said, not wanting to speak about his mother and her passing. He wasn't sad the way he was when he was little, but telling someone else was still painful and he wanted to keep this conversation happy. He decided not to ask about Blaine's father since he had never mentioned him.

"My hair is brown – a rich chestnut color, like a horse," he said and is happy when it makes Blaine laugh.

"Well, it's thick like a horse's mane, although the strands are fine and soft," Blaine described, thinking of when he ran his fingers through Kurt's hair earlier.

Kurt joined Blaine in laughing, too. He returned to sit on the bed beside Blaine and isn't really surprised when Blaine takes his hand.

"I wonder if I might ask something about the accident?" Kurt said in a quiet tone. He didn't want this to be sad, but his curiosity is insatiable.

"Okay," Blaine conceded, a wary look on his face.

"Did...did your friend, Sebastain...ah..."

"Did he survive? Yes, he did. He broke his pelvis and left leg, but it is healing and he is in physical therapy now. He's still in France with his parents. They're Catholic and have taken him to the Grotto of Massabielle by the Lady of Lourdes to have the 'miracle waters' of St. Bernadette heal him," Blaine said.

Kurt's hair on the back of his neck felt prickly and he was surprised at Blaine's non-judgmental tone. Kurt stayed silent but wondered if Blaine is Catholic, too.

"I kind of miss Sebastian, but he is feeling better and I think I have finally talked him out of feeling guilty. He blames himself, but I don't blame him. We were horsing around and it was just serendipity that the van came around the corner just as I tripped. The driver got a ticket for going too fast, but that was all. The man sends me a fruit basket every week!" Blaine rolled his eyes.

"That's kind of him. Does Sebastian live in France all the time or does he live here?" Kurt asked.

"They have houses in both places – he lives just over the hill and down on the other side of the apple orchard. We used to pick apples there in the summer when we were little," Blaine said.

"Is he your boyfriend?" Kurt asked, surprised to hear a small tremble in his voice.

"No, not at all. I mean, he wishes he was! But no, it would be like dating my brother. I have no romantic feelings for him," Blaine said with ease. That made Kurt feel better, but he wasn't sure why.

"I saw the heavy cast is gone from your leg. Is the bone healing properly?" Kurt asked. When he came to get the afghan, Kurt saw the pictures of Blaine on horses in some sort of competition with blue ribbons and rosettes. In one, Blaine is leaning forward in the saddle as a huge gray horse jumped over a fence. There are also pictures of Blaine with a Lacrosse team and a trophy.

"It is healing fine. I was lucky, it was my thigh bone, but a clean break and it is healing fine, as is the bone in my arm. I should have that cast off in a few weeks. That is the place the van actually ran over me, and it sort of crushed the arm. There are pins and plates and such in that arm, so it is taking longer to heal.

"They took the stitches out of the cuts on my face and chest. Tell me, can you see the scars? My mother says they are hardly noticeable, but I have the feeling she is...ah...exaggerating to soothe my feelings."

Kurt tipped Blaine's face up and studied it, looking closely at the places where the stitches were a week ago. He is close to Blaine, and his breath ghosts across his lips. Blaine trembles and leans just a bit forward, as if expecting something. Kurt pretends to study his scar, then leans over and lightly kisses his forehead where the worst scar is fading.

Blaine smiles and touches Kurt's face to see if he's smiling. He is.

"It is noticeable if you look for it, you can still see the dots where the stitches were, but they are almost gone and the cut itself is fading. I imagine that within a year it will be just about gone. Your face is so beautiful, I don't think anyone would notice a small scar, Blaine," he finished. His fingers are still holding Blaine's chin up, and Kurt is still looking at his plump, pink lips. He wanted to kiss Blaine so much, but didn't want to take advantage of him. He realized that Blaine was still leaning forward and decides to take a chance. He brushes his lips across Blaine's and thrills when Blaine kisses him back, his hands going to Kurt's face and framing his cheeks as he takes a breath, then kisses Kurt again.

Just as Blaine opens his mouth a teeny bit and Kurt is ready to deepen the kiss, Macushla barks in the sitting room. The bark is very loud and sounds challenging.

"My mother!" Blaine squeaks, letting Kurt go and laid back on the bed. Kurt panicked, wondering if the woman will get angry. She is very formidable and Kurt is slightly afraid of her.

"Machshla! Come!" Blaine commands and the dog comes bounding into the bedroom, leaping up on the bed and landing his huge body next to his master. He sneaks up between Blaine and Kurt as Mrs. Anderson enters the sitting room.

"Blaine? You need to train that dog better. He barks every time I walk into your rooms," she complained as she walked over to shut the French doors to the balcony.

Blaine leaned over the dog to whisper to Kurt, "I trained Cush to bark when she enters." He giggles and lies back down, smoothing the blankets over his shoulder. It is chilly in the room.

Kurt gives him a secret smile, moves to the armchair next to the bed and picks up a book that was sitting there.

"Ah, there you are. Hello, Mr. Hummel," she greets them, looking back and forth between the boys. "Did Parker come in early? Why are you in bed?"

"No, I was tired and hurting, so Kurt was kind enough to help me into bed. I'll ring for Parker after supper to help me get my pajamas on, but I need to rest for now, Mother," Blaine explained.

"Oh, do I need to get you some pain medication? You haven't had to have that in over a week, are you okay, darling?" she asked, sitting on the bed and feeling Blaine's head for a fever.

"I think an aspirin will do, Mother. Thank you," Blaine replied.

"I will go get you the aspirin and something to drink. I think the reading is done for the day, Mr. Hummel, thank you again for helping my son. He has brightened up since you've been coming to read," she tells Kurt.

"Of course. Thank you, Mrs. Anderson," Kurt says and smiles at her.

Mrs. Anderson leaves the room, a glance back at Kurt tells him he needs to go.

"Are you okay, Blaine? Can I do anything before I leave?"

"I'm fine. Can I give you my number? You can call me if you want," he offers and Kurt gets his phone from his pocket. He punches in Blaine's number and then puts his own in Blaine's phone.

"I can still use a phone, thank goodness," Blaine smiles.

"Please call me if you need to talk or anything, Blaine. I'm glad you want to be friends with me, I enjoy...ah, I enjoy being with you," he says and slips on his jacket.

"Good night, Kurt," Blaine whispers, his eyes sleepy.

Before he thinks about it, Kurt leans over and kisses Blaine's forehead before leaving.

* * *

" _Getting To Know You"_ is from the 1951 Broadway musical **The King and I** by Richard Rogers & Oscar Hammerstein II.


	4. Ya Got Trouble

**My Reader – Chapter Four – Ya Got Trouble**

It was a bad day. A really bad day.

It started when Kurt was late for choir. He'd stopped to talk with his English Lit teacher about an assignment, then got the wrong book from his locker, and didn't have time to go back to get the right one before class. Then he sat down only to have Rachel sit practically in his lap in her rush to get away from Finn.

"Rachel, could you please step to the front of the room – we need to go over the duet. I don't need to tell you how much we need to be on target for Nationals," Mr. Scheuster said, a dreamy smile on his face.

"I'm not singing with _him_ ," Rachel pouted, scooting even closer to Kurt.

"Aw, come on, Rachel. I just asked her if her throat was better today. I wasn't asking her on a date or anything. I was just being polite," Finn coaxed, his eyes sad. He was trying to navigate the world of teenage girls – and not having much luck.

He glanced at Puck and saw him rolling his eyes and mouthing ' _I told you so_ '.

"You are so clueless, you big dork," Santana interjected with a smirk on her face, enjoying all the angst in the room.

Quinn glared at Finn, letting him know this whole thing was not cool.

Rachel fixed him with a stare, then turned to Kurt, burying her face in his shoulder and sobbing. Poor Kurt was forced to put his arms around her, trying to give her some sort of comfort while he looked at his step-brother for forgiveness. Hopefully Finn would realize what a precarious position he was in?

Finn looked around the room, not knowing who to rely on for support, or who to avoid. The pressure finally got to him and he turned on his heel and fled the room.

Rachel looked up as he disappeared through the doorway and burst out in full-on crying. The room erupted in chaos as everyone felt the need to voice their opinion, to move to console someone else, or to berate those involved in the intrigue.

With Rachel now surrounded by her girlfriends, Kurt quickly gathered his books and stood up.

"I need to go see to my brother," he said to no-one and followed Finn from the room. There would be no progress made in the rehearsal today, of that much Kurt was certain.

He thought about finding Finn to check on him and assure him that he was there for him, in spite of Rachel crying on his shoulder, but he had no idea which way to go. He walked over to a window to look out onto the parking lot and found Finn's truck was gone. Well, that answered that question. He could see a trail of dirt blowing in the air where Finn had peeled out just moments ago.

Kurt decided to just go get his history book so he could finish his homework before going to the Anderson mansion to read to Blaine. He wasn't all that upset about what happened in choir and found himself imagining what it would be like to take over the duet from his brother. He was doing a few dance steps and singing quietly as he made his way down the empty hallway when he was suddenly pushed into a bank of lockers. He'd barely stepped away to try and regain his balance when he was slammed even harder from another angle.

Detention had let out. Dave Karofsky, Rick 'the Stick' Nelson, and Azimio Adams were in the lead, surrounding him with their lackeys just behind.

"What the hell are you doing in our hallway?" Azimio asked.

"He's sprinkling his Fairy Dust all over the place!" Karofsky said, bending his wrist and flapping his hand limply in Kurt's face.

"You don't belong here...or anywhere," Rick said, hip-checking Kurt into the lockers for the third time. This time he lost his footing and was bracing himself to hit the floor when someone grabbed his belt and hauled him back to his feet. He glanced up just in time to see Dave's fist headed for the pit of his stomach and he twisted to get away, but whoever had him by the belt didn't let go and the fist landed on the side of his lower back. He slid to the floor after that and put his arms over his head to prevent them kicking him there.

It got quiet and he realized Coach Sylvester had blown her whistle and the boys scattered. She rushed up to him, dropping to her knees.

"Porcelain, are you alright?" she asked, touching his shoulder gently.

"Yeah, I'm okay. It was just...ah...roughhousing. Horseplay," he said, seeing two heads looking from behind a turn in the corridor. He knew better than to rat out the bullies. He'd been down that road before and didn't want any part of their revenge.

"I saw what happened, Dough-Boy. I can talk to Figgins," she offered, but he shook his head, stumbling to his feet.

"No. I need to get home. Lots of homework," he said, walking quickly away from the woman. She started to say something, but he was through the side door and on his way to his SUV in the parking lot before she could say anything more.

It wasn't until he got home that Kurt realized he had to go, really badly. He jumped out of the Navigator and through the back door, hurrying into the bathroom next to the laundry room and undoing his pants. He'd just started to pee when his dad walked by.

"Hey, you don't close the door anymore? I know we're both guys, but..." Burt stopped, his hand going to his open mouth as he stared at the toilet bowl. Kurt couldn't stop in mid-stream, but he looked down to see swirls of dark blood filling the bowl.

"Oh, my God..." was all Kurt said before he fell to his knees in pain.

* * *

"The doc said you'll be in bed for a week at the least, Kurt," Burt said, tucking his son into his bed.

"I know, Dad. I need to call Mercedes to get me my homework, though," he said, reaching for his cell phone beside the bed on the nightstand.

"Nope. Plenty of time for that later," Burt said, pocketing the phone. "Now, take those pills the doc gave you and go to sleep. I'll take care of everything. You just rest for now," Burt demanded. He leaned over, a tear in his eye, and kissed Kurt on the forehead. "I love you, son. Don't worry about anything. I'll take care of it all. I'll take care of you."

Kurt blinked up at his dad and then closed his eyes. They'd given him a shot of something at the hospital that made him really sleepy.

"Love you, toooooo..."

Burt went downstairs and set Kurt's phone down. He picked up the house phone and called the school.

Half an hour later, he slammed the receiver down in its cradle, a smirk on his face. He'd spoken to that lily-livered idiot, Figgins. With the help of a fictitious lawyer, he'd railroaded the principal into agreeing with him on every count. In return for him not pressing charges against the school, Kurt would be receiving the grades he'd earned so far in each class – all As. He would not have to attend any more classes the rest of the year, which was three weeks' time. The three bullies would be suspended: Azimio Adams, Richard Nelson, and Dave Karofsky. Coach Sylvester had the three of them in the principal's office already that afternoon, so Burt didn't have to try to find out their names – Kurt wouldn't budge on that score, telling the policeman at the hospital he didn't know them.

Now, he just had to make sure Kurt took his antibiotics to prevent any infection in his bruised kidney. Burt knew he would dwell on the attack, making himself sicker than he needed to be. He needed to think of something to get his attention away from it. Maybe a puppy?

Kurt's phone rang and Burt answered it right away, not wanting Kurt to wake up.

"Kurt Hummel's phone, Burt Hummel speaking," he said.

"Mr. Hummel? May I speak to Kurt please?"

"He can't come to the phone right now. Can I take a message?"

"This is Dr. Margaret Anderson. I need to speak to Kurt, but perhaps I might speak with you first. This is Kurt's father, correct?"

"Yes, ma'am. You're Blaine's mom, right?"

"Yes, and its about him that I am calling. First, Kurt didn't come today, I trust he isn't feeling poorly? He's never even been late before..."

"He is sick, I'm sorry he didn't call. He said he sent a text, though?" Burt asked.

"He might have, but it would have been to Blaine's cell phone. What I need to speak about is Blaine. He is in need of surgery and the doctor is in New York. While my elder son, Cooper, will be with him for the surgery, he can't be there during the days in the weeks after. There will be a nurse with him, but I want Blaine to be comfortable, so I am willing to fly your son to New York. His only duty will be to keep Blaine company, but I will pay him."

"Well, Mrs. Anderson, I guess I need a few more details. When? Where? Etc. before I make up my mind," Burt said.

"It's _Doctor_ Anderson, actually. I took my PhD in education. Blaine will leave the 22nd of May – a Thursday – and the surgery is on Monday the 24th. The doctor is expecting a three week recovery, which puts us at ...ah...June 14th. I know Kurt is in school, but perhaps I can intervene on his behalf?" she asked.

"No, that isn't a worry. Kurt is out of school for the year. He had an...accident. He is on bed rest, but he'll be fine by next Thursday. The only conflict I see is that he's in show choir and they have their National Competition on Saturday, the 22nd. He has a solo, so he can't skip out on that. Since you are sending Blaine to New York, could that be accommodated?" Burt asked, knowing that would be a deal-breaker.

"Of course. Blaine was a member of his school's show choir, too. I hear they are going to be at Nationals this year," Dr. Anderson said.

"Oh, then Blaine will be there, too?"

"Ah, no. Kurt will be able to attend, of course. We will make arrangements."

"Are they staying at a hotel? I'm not sure...for 3 weeks..." Burt mumbled. He was embarrassed, but he could hardly afford to pay for a New York hotel for that long.

"No. We have an apartment in the city. There is plenty of room for Kurt to stay with Blaine there. Mr. Hummel, would you feel better if you were to go with them and see the accommodations? That way you can attend the National Show Choir event and see your son perform?" Dr. Anderson asked kindly. She found Burt's concern for his son touching.

"I couldn't ask you to do that..." he stuttered.

"But you are not asking. I am offering. I'd have to send my assistant with Blaine, so having you go in her stead would be an unexpected boon. Please, Mr. Hummel, I am happy to accommodate you in this. We both benefit," she told him.

"Can I think about it?" Burt asked, knowing Kurt would need to be asked, not told. He needed to wait until his son was awake before laying out all of this.

"Of course. I expect Kurt will want to take it in. Is he very ill? Perhaps I need to find a substitute?"

"No. He'll be fine in a few days. If the flight is on the 20th, that give us ten days. He will be fine. I'll have a note from his doctor if you would like?" Burt asked, not thinking it would actually be required.

"That would be fine. Thank you, Mr. Hummel. I will expect your call...?" she left it for him to say.

"I will call before tomorrow evening, Dr. Anderson. Thank you," Burt ended the conversation.

"And you. Good bye."

He grinned to himself. Thanks to Dr. Anderson, he would now be able to see Kurt perform in New York. Plus, this would give Kurt something to concentrate on other than the bullies. Burt was glad it was the end of the school year. He'd have all summer to figure out what to do about next year. He had to keep his son safe for his final year in high school.

It was hard. Burt remembered his high school years as fun and busy. He'd been on the football team, busy with classes where he was an A and B student. He'd taken mechanical drafting and went on to get a degree at the community college in the same subject. His dad fixed cars in his garage at home, and Burt joined him – later opening his own shop the year after his father died. He'd been expanding and improving the shop ever since.

He now had seven employees and all the business he could handle. He thought he'd be disappointed that Kurt wouldn't follow in his footsteps, but he wasn't. Kurt was his own person and Burt was so proud of that. He wanted to see Kurt on Broadway almost as much as Kurt wanted to see himself there.

Burt shook himself out of the dream when he heard Kurt calling him.

"Dad...I was supposed to go to Blaine's to read today. I sent him a text, but I forgot he can't read it. I need my cell to call him..." Kurt said, his head still fuzzy from the drugs and his back hurting.

"Don't worry. I just spoke with his mother. She called about something else, though."

Kurt blinked himself awake, looking up at his father as Burt came into his room and sat on the bed. He told Kurt all about the trip to New York.

"Yeah, I'll go!" Kurt said, excited.

"Okay, I'll call Dr. Anderson in the morning. For now, you get back to sleep. I'm taking the next two days off to be with you, so don't worry," Burt said gently. He stroked Kurt's hair and was surprised when Kurt didn't object. He must be in real need of comfort to let his dad touch his hair.

"Okay, Dad."

"I'm going to stay here until you fall asleep," Burt offered. Pulling a comfortable chair close to the bed. He stroked Kurt's hair until he fell asleep.

* * *

_**A Week Later** _

"Oh, Kurt. How nice to see you," Dr. Anderson greeted him.

"Thank you, it's good to see you, too. Is Blaine available?" Kurt asked. He'd tried all week to call Blaine, but his phone was off and the voice-mail was full.

"He says he doesn't want to see anyone, but I am guessing he'll see you. Don't tell him I said so, but I think you might be the one to cheer him up. Go ahead up," Dr. Anderson encouraged.

"Thank you, ma'am. I'll do my best."

Kurt mounted the stairs, Macushla at his side. The huge dog had met him at the door and stayed with him until they reached Blaine's door. Kurt knocked.

"Go away, Mother. Please. I don't want any chicken soup or orange juice. I want to be left alone. Okay?" Blaine grouched from the other side of the door.

Kurt opened it, knowing it was probably the best thing to do, given Dr. Anderson's comments.

"Blaine?" he started, looking over to see whether he was welcome. He saw a brilliant grin, but then Blaine schooled his face into a grim frown.

"Kurt."

"Can I came in? Macushla came with me," Kurt tried, knowing how much Blaine loved the dog.

"Cush..." the boy murmured, his hand out to touch the wolfhound as he came to sit by the wheelchair.

Kurt gathered his courage and entered, pulling a chair closer to Blaine and sitting down.

"Blaine, I'm right here."

"Yes?"

"I tried to call. I'm so sorry I missed our sessions – reading sessions I mean..."

"Where were you?' Blaine asked, a note of sadness in his voice. "I lost my cell phone. It is on silent, so I can't call and hear it ring. I think Macushla might have taken it to chew on or something. I had no way of calling you," Blaine rushed out all at once. "You couldn't have come to tell me? We had scheduled reading dates..."

"No, I was in bed. I was...ah...sick. My dad said he told your mother?"

"Oh. Well, she forgot to relay that message. How are you now?" he asked with concern.

"I'm okay." Kurt didn't want to talk about the bullies at his school, he didn't want to sound pitiful.

"What...?" Blaine stared to ask, but manners stopped him. If Kurt wanted him to know, he'd have said.

"So, did she tell you I'm going with you to New York?" Kurt changed the subject.

"Yes. I'm really glad. It's kind of scary and having you with me will mean a lot," Blaine replied, a smile on his face.

"Then we can brave the big city together!" Kurt enthused.

"Oh, I've been there...a lot. We have an apartment there. I meant...the surgery," Blaine explained himself.

"Can I ask – what are you having done? Does it have something to do with your leg?" Kurt asked.

"No. You know how I told you my eyesight would be returning soon – that when the swelling in the tissue around the optic nerve went down, the nerves would work again? Well, that isn't happening. I saw my ophthalmologist here and he is sending me to a specialist in New York for surgery."

Blaine looked scared, so Kurt took his cold hand gently and held it in his own warm hand.

"They wouldn't send you if they didn't think it will restore your vision, Blaine. This is a good thing. Right?" Kurt tried, not used to comforting gorgeous boys and not knowing how to go about it.

"You think so?" Blaine asked, blinking back tears. "I'm scared they'll slip or something and cut my brain...and I'll be diminished somehow..." he moaned, tears coming down his cheeks.

"No, no...that won't happen. Your mother wouldn't let anyone touch you unless they were the best, right?" Kurt asked.

"I suppose, but I'm still scared."

"Come here..." Kurt coaxed and when Blaine leaned forward, he put his arms around the boy, feeling his tears wetting his shoulder. Kurt patted his back, holding him awkwardly in the wheelchair. He thought of gathering Blaine and pulling him over to sit in his lap, but he was scared.

"I'm sorry, Kurt. I'm just a big baby. I promise, you won't have to deal with me being like this in New York. Cooper is going to be there and he's used to me," Blaine explained, sitting back in the wheelchair.

"Okay. Who's Cooper?"

"Oh, my big brother. He's going to meet us at the airport or the apartment. He's coming up from Princeton to be with me, then the day after surgery he'll be going back. He can only take so many days. He has to get back to his classes."

"Is he studying at Princeton? He must be really smart," Kurt said.

Blaine laughed and Kurt was relieved to hear it.

"No, no...Cooper is a professor of political science at Princeton. He actually went to Northwestern and then Yale and Dartmouth. He's a lot older than I am – he's thirty-one. I guess I was somewhat of a surprise for my parents. They had expected that Cooper would be an only child, but then I came along fifteen years later," Blaine said.

"Oh, I always wanted a brother..." Kurt whispered, not thinking.

"I thought you had a brother – you mentioned Finn a couple of times, or am I confused?"

"No. Finn is my brother. Well, he's actually my step-brother. My dad married his mom last year, so we're the same age. Step brothers. I mean when I was little. I wanted a baby sister or brother, and...well, I got a sister, but she and Mom died the day she was born. Sorry...didn't mean to dump that on you," Kurt said, horrified his personal life came out like that.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Kurt. That had to have hurt. I...I don't know what to say. I'm so sorry."

"Hey, it was a long time ago. Nothing to worry about. So, tell me about New York! I've always dreamed of going there - this will be my first time. What are the 'musts' that I need to see?"

"Oh...so many. I love The Big Apple as much as I love Paris," Blaine said, excited to share his view of the city with Kurt.

"There are museums, parks, theaters, so many things! The shopping, the street food. Oh, don't tell Mother I eat street food. She thinks it's garbage, but I can tell you it is magnificent. We'll go one day and hit all the best street food carts. I promise." Blaine was so excited, his eyes sparkled and Kurt just stared at him, realizing how beautiful Blaine Anderson really was.

"Kurt? Kurt! Are you okay?"

"Yeah...fine. I was just imagining it. Where is your apartment? Is it near Manhattan?" Kurt asks.

"Yes, it is. In the heart as a matter of fact. I'm across from Central Park in the Upper West Side," he said, reluctant to tell him where it was exactly. People have such a bad reaction when they find where he lives. Kurt is looking at him, and there is a silence so he brings himself back to reality.

"I'm sorry, I didn't hear what you said?" Blaine asks, embarrassed he wasn't listening properly.

"Oh, I was going to put the address in my phone so I can use the GPS if I get lost in the city?" Kurt asked, confused at Blaine's face. Blaine schools his face to a neutral look.

"Where is it?"

"It's One West 72nd."

Kurt puts it into the cell phone, then stares at the screen.

"Ah, I must have put this in wrong...it says you live at The Dakota. Where John Lennon lived with Yoko Ono. Where he died," Kurt says, bewildered. "Where Judy Garland lived..."

"Yeah. The Dakota. Yoko still lives there, but John died before I was born, so I didn't know him," Blaine says, looking embarrassed.

"But you know Yoko?"

"Mrs. Lennon, yes I do. And her son, Sean. Its not as if we're pals or anything, they live in the building. I see them on occasion," Blaine confessed. "Lauren Bacall once let me come into her apartment to see her Audubon bird painting when I was little."

"Lauren Bacall? Humphrey Bogart's wife? The actress?" Kurt asked, amazed.

"Ah, yeah. Is there another one?" Blaine laughed, then ducked his head down in embarrassment.

"Hey," Kurt says, his forefinger on Blaine's chin as he makes his friend lift his face so he can see him.

"Don't worry, I won't embarrass you. I promise," Kurt says in a gentle voice.

"Okay. Sorry, it's in our contract – we agree not to harass the other tenants. I can get into a lot of trouble if...if you fanboy all over her. Or any of the famous ones," Blaine says.

"Like who?"

"I can't tell you. Let's talk about something else. Do you like Broadway? Maybe we can go see a show or two?" Blaine asks.

He is surprised as he suddenly has a lap full of Kurt.

"Hey, now," Kurt says, "You mean a show?"

"Yes."

"As in Broadway!"

"Yes."

"Of course!"

Kurt grins and puts his arms back around Blaine, giggling.

Kurt moves back to his chair, blushing that he let himself get so carried away.

He sits quietly, now running his hand over Macushla's bony back as he talks to Blaine.

They continue to discuss New York for a while, then Blaine decides to revisit a subject from earlier.

"Kurt, why were you gone for so long? I missed you."

"I told you, I was sick," he said, but the hesitance in his voice is picked up by Blaine.

"Sick with what?" he presses.

"I...ah..." Kurt hesitates again, not wanting to lie to his new friend. "I bruised my kidney. The doctor said I had to stay in bed for a week, but its better now," Kurt tells him, hoping this will be the end of it. It isn't.

"What did you do to bruise your kidney?" Blaine sits, aghast. He knows it must have been a hard blow to do that much damage. "I sense you don't want me to know. Why?"

"Can we just finish your reading maybe? I think we were on D. H. Lawrence."

"Oh. So this is a paid session? My mother is paying you to cheer me up or something? Maybe it's time for you to leave, Kurt. I think I'm getting another headache," Blaine says with a sting in his voice.

"No...no, she isn't paying me to be here. I wanted to come see you, Blaine. I am so excited to be with you in New York, and I was worried about your surgery. I just changed the subject because I didn't want to talk about why I was sick, that's all," Kurt huffed.

"Why not?" Blaine asked, his brown eyes trying to focus on Kurt.

"I was bullied," he said in such a small voice that Blaine couldn't hear him.

"Sorry, what?"

"I was...I am the target for the worst bullies at McKinley High. The jocks take perverse pleasure in beating me up. One of them punched me in the kidney. I had to go to the hospital and I've been peeing blood for a week. That is actually the reason my dad is letting me go with you to New York. He made a deal with the principal to let me out of school the rest of the year in exchange for us not pursuing legal action," Kurt blurts out.

Blaine is quiet. He leans forward once again to take Kurt's hand in his and runs his thumb over his wrist.

Unbeknownst to the boys, Dr. Anderson is in the hallway outside the room. For once Macushla hasn't detected her, so she stands there, about to knock before she hears Kurt's confession. With tears in her eyes, she goes back down the stairs to her office to sort through some paperwork, her mission to get the doctor's note from Kurt forgotten.

* * *

' _Ya Got Trouble_ ' is from the 1957 Broadway musical **The Music Man** by Meredith Willson.

** Note: Yes, I know Lauren Bacall has passed away. She died in 2014, so for this story (set in 2010) she is still alive.


	5. I Think I'm Gonna Like It Here

**My Reader – Chapter 5 – I Think I'm Gonna Like It Here**

The plane landed at JFK with a bounce and Blaine grabbed at Kurt to steady himself. He almost fell to the ground before Kurt and his dad righted him.

"You okay there, bud?" Burt asked, genuinely concerned. He hated to admit it to himself, but being with the blind boy with his appendages in air-casts unnerved him. He didn't do well with illness or injuries and it was only the thought of seeing Kurt perform that brought him to the Big Apple today.

"Yes, Mr. Hummel. I'm okay, just a bit off-balance," he answered.

The steward came up the aisle to stand by their seats.

"Are you ready to disembark, Mr. Anderson?" he asked, unfolding the wheelchair that had been strapped into the cabin.

"Yes, we're ready," Burt answered for him. He was certainly ready to get off this plane and get some air. Being cooped up in a small space was not one of Burt's favorite things.

They gathered their things as the airline staff lifted Blaine into the wheelchair and helped him off the plane. Kurt took the handles of the wheelchair as they entered the concourse and wheeled Blaine towards the luggage pick-up.

"What about Macushla?" Blaine squeaked.

"It's all good. They are going to meet us just outside the doors with his crate," Burt said. Dr. Anderson's assistant had told him how it would work, and that they would be met by a car to take them into Manhattan.

Just as they arrived at the door for pick-ups, accompanied by sky caps with all the suitcases in tow, a young man hurried over and put his arms around Blaine.

"Squirt!"

Blaine jumped in his seat, screeching as he startled.

"Cooper, go easy, you scared me," he stuttered, blushing in embarrassment.

"Sure, kid. So, how was your flight?" Cooper asked.

"Fine. Let me introduce you. Burt and Kurt, this is my brother, Dr. Cooper Anderson. Coop, this is Burt Hummel and his son, Kurt Hummel. Mother told you they were staying with me?" Blaine said, his manners on display.

"Nice to meet you both," Cooper said, shaking their hands.

The Hummels exchanged small talk with Cooper until Blaine let his nerves get the better of him and pulled on Cooper's jacket.

"I don't mean to interrupt, but where is Macushla?" Blaine asked.

"You brought your behemoth with you?" Cooper asked, trying to hide the mirth in his voice.

"Of course I did!"

Kurt laughed, knowing that Blaine would never go anywhere without his beloved wolfhound.

Just then their car pulled up to the sidewalk and the sky cap showed up with the dog on a leash – looking quite disconcerted at the huge animal that had been put into his care. The scared skycap startled as the huge dog leaned forward to lick Blaine's hand and Kurt's adventure into his dream of New York began.

* * *

"What do you want to do first?" Blaine asked Kurt after they were settled in his apartment at The Dakota. Burt had decided to take a nap.

"Can I take you over to Central Park for a walk?" Kurt asked.

"That's the first thing I usually do when I get here," Blaine smiled, pleased that Kurt was of the same mind.

They put a leash on Macushla and Kurt pushed the wheelchair out the door and down the hallway to the elevator.

Arriving in the park across the street, Blaine guided Kurt near Strawberry Fields so they could sit in the sun. Cush was busy sniffing around the trees and Blaine had to call him several times to settle down before the big dog huffed and laid down next to the wheelchair.

"Blaine, can I ask you something?" Kurt hesitated, not feeling close enough to Blaine to just ask anything.

"Well, ask and I'll let you know if I want to answer," Blaine replied, skeptical.

"Why are you in the wheelchair? I mean, your leg was broken, but it is on the mend, why aren't you using crutches or something? Won't the muscles get wasted through disuse?"

"I can stand up – but not put any weight on my leg. I can't use conventional crutches because of how weak my arm is from the break and the dislocation. I only got the cast off and the air cast on a week ago. Plus...well, I'm afraid to use them because I can't see. My balance is off, so it's just easier with the wheelchair."

"Oh, okay. Sorry," Kurt hummed, embarrassed that he didn't work that out for himself.

"I do go to physical therapy every week, Kurt. I'm not lazy. When this surgery is over and I can see again, it will be easier to get around," Blaine tried to explain.

"Of course. I wasn't thinking. I never thought you were lazy! I should have realized..." Kurt mumbled.

"Hey, is everything okay?" Blaine asked.

"Yeah. I'm just sort of...overwhelmed I guess."

"That's easy to do. Let's just sit here and enjoy the sunshine. Okay?"

"Sure."

"So, where is everything from here? I mean, I read about New York all the time, but it isn't the same as really being here. Do you just wander the city when you come?" Kurt asked.

"No, not exactly. I used to come just in the summer. Mother hates New York in the snow – it's all slushy and cold. Cooper would be in charge of me most of the time and he would take me out on what he called 'explores'," Blaine said.

"Oh! Like Winnie-the-Pooh!" Kurt laughed.

Blaine got a funny look on his face.

"Oh, my God...that's where he got that..." he said wistfully.

Kurt laughed louder, disturbing the dog into standing and shaking as he turned to lie back down in the grass.

"The best street vendors are near the park, so we would go out and try a different one each day. The beginning of summer would be a whole new world to explore in terms of finding the best food since they tended to move from year to year."

"We're going to have to try that..."

"Cooper would take me to a different museum each week. We'd go see the same museum over and over until we'd seen it all, then move to the next one. My favorite was the Metropolitan Museum of Art," Blaine continued.

"I bet I know why," Kurt interjected.

"I bet you don't," Blaine smiled.

"Would it have anything to do with a certain Newberry-award-winning book by E.L. Koningsburg?"

Blaine looked surprised then started laughing.

"Yep. Cooper read me From the Mixed-up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler when I was in third grade. I wanted to be just like those kids – to run away and live at the Met, sleeping in antique beds that were once slept in by European royalty." Blaine grinned.

"Can we go visit that museum?" Kurt inquired, his anxiety showing.

"Yes. It's right across the park. I want to show you _everything_."

The boys returned to the apartment an hour later, relaxed and happy. Blaine managed to hide his fear of the upcoming surgery from Kurt, but not from his brother.

"Hey, Squirt," Cooper addressed his little brother later that afternoon. "Kurt tells me he is going to be singing with his show choir on Saturday. Would you like to go? Mother said the Warblers are going to be there."

"No. I...I just want to stay home. I need to rest up for the surgery on Monday."

"Okay. Let me know if you change your mind."

The next morning, Friday, the bell rang and Cooper answered the intercom. It was just after breakfast and Kurt was sitting at the table with Blaine. Burt was in the den watching television and getting ready to go out with the boys to walk in the park later.

"Blainnneeeee!" a shout came from the door as Blaine turned to try and sense where the noise was coming from.

Three young men came barreling into the breakfast room, surrounding Blaine's wheelchair and hugging him.

"Who let you three in?" he kidded, trying to hug them back, but getting confused and lost as to where they all were. Kurt sat back, staring at the commotion swirling around him.

"Where have you guys been? Not one of you have been to see me since the accident," he frowned.

"Incarcerated at Dalton, of course. Your mama has kept us up with your progress, but told us you couldn't have company," the blond boy said, sitting by Blaine.

"She said after your eye surgery we could come by – one at a time!" the boy with olive skin and a bright smile added.

"But we knew you'd miss us, so when Coop said you'd be here...well, here we are," the third cheerful-looking boy ended.

Kurt's eyes were out on stalks, staring at the three rambunctious friends as they sat in chairs – the dark-haired one in the cheerful boy's lap. Kurt couldn't help but feel a bit lost, and a funny feeling in his chest threatened to strangle him until he realized it for what it was - jealousy.

"I'll just leave you to your friends..." Kurt said softly as he got up to leave the room.

"No! Hey, no...Kurt, please stay and meet my friends from Dalton: Jeff Stirling is the blond one, and Nick Duvall is no doubt sitting on Trent Nixon's lap. They are my friends and fellow Warblers," Blaine laughed. "Guys, this is my friend, Kurt Hummel."

"Good to meet you," Kurt said and it is suddenly chaos again as all three of the Warblers speak all at once.

They adjourned to the living room, deciding on how to spend the rest of the day before the Warblers were due back to their hotel and Kurt needed to be meeting up with the New Directions. Everyone is friendly until Blaine mentions that Kurt is going to be at the Show Choir Competition and all got quiet. The three Warblers left right after that, making Kurt feel as if he'd done something wrong. He went to the guest room to get hugs and reassurance from his dad before they leave for the hotel.

"So, ah...thanks for everything, Blaine. I guess I'll see you tomorrow afternoon – after the competition. I'm sorry if I made things awkward between you and your friends. I didn't know they were going to be here, or that they were in competition with me. I never would have said a word," Kurt tried to make things better.

"No, Kurt. It was me. I should have figured out that they would come to visit. It just never occurred to me that they were...well, never mind. Everything is fine. I do wish you well in your competition. Break a leg," Blaine said, but hesitated to do what he wanted to – pull Kurt down and give him a kiss – in case they aren't alone.

After the Hummels left, Cooper came to sit beside his brother.

"I got you a ticket, if you want to go listen to the show. I know your pals at Dalton will be happy to see you there. And Kurt will, too."

"Maybe. I'll see how I feel tomorrow." Blaine said, then wheeled himself into his bedroom.

* * *

Kurt entered the green room amid shouts and clamor. The New Directions were happy to see him, all but Tina who was poised to take his place as soloist if he didn't show. She was upset for a few moments, but found herself hugging him along with the others. A thousand questions were on their lips until Mr. Scheuster entered, clapping his hands to get their attention.

"Kurt, we're all glad to see you could make it. Now, let's get to your places for a few minutes to rehearse just a few stanzas before we're called out there."

The Warblers are on first and had three rousing songs, but they are all feeling the absence of their leader and soloist, Blaine Anderson, and it showed. From the audience, Blaine listened and cheered for his friends, but knew they weren't going to win. He sat between Cooper and Kurt's dad, so he wasn't too loud in his cheering for his school.

They sit through seven more schools from across the country until the last school choir called is The New Directions.

Burt whistled so loudly that Blaine had to cover his ears. Finn and Rachel start them out with a duet that goes off like a dream, the audience cheering until the whole choir comes on stage and they do some complicated dance moves to an upbeat song.

Then comes the last of the set. Blaine hears the choir humming in the background until a familiar voice appears. He knew this was Kurt's school, but didn't know he was singing the final solo and he's singing an old Beatles song:

_Blackbird singing in the dead of night  
Take these broken wings and learn to fly  
All your life  
You were only waiting for this moment to arise_

_Blackbird singing in the dead of night  
Take these sunken eyes and learn to see  
All your life  
You were only waiting for this moment to be free_

_Blackbird fly  
Blackbird fly  
Into the light of the dark black night..._

It's as if the two of them are alone in the theatre, Kurt's pure voice speaking directly to Blaine's soul. He is quiet, just taking in the feelings and sound until the last notes and the auditorium erupts in joy as the audience members cheer for Kurt.

Its no surprise to find that the New Directions take first prize.

* * *

"Well, kiddo, I knew you could do it," Burt hugged his son, patting him on the back.

"Thanks, Dad," Kurt smiled, hugging his father tightly.

"Good job, kid," Cooper congratulated him as the other New Directions come to lift Kurt into the air and carry him in a circle of the auditorium foyer.

He is set down next to Burt when the Warblers come over. Jeff, Trent, and Nick all give him a hug while Kurt stands immobile in awe of what is happening to him.

"If we had to lose, I can say that we are proud to have lost to such an amazing singer," Wes, their leader, told Kurt and shook his hand.

"Thank you..." Kurt said, still in shock.

All of the Warblers surround Blaine, most of them hugging him, all telling him how much he is missed and they leave with wishes for a speedy recovery.

When all of the chaos is over, the small group leaves to take the Anderson's town car back to The Dakota. They have a quick lunch and then Burt has to get to the airport to get back to Lima. He can't leave his garage for too long.

"Kurt, would you like to ride with us to drop off your dad?" the driver asked and Kurt grins.

"Is that okay, Blaine?"

"Yes, of course. I am going to take a nap anyway. I'm tired," he agrees.

At the airport, Kurt is melancholy – wanting to go back with his dad, but at the same time he's excited to stay in New York.

"I'm going to miss you, Dad," he said, his arms once more around his dad's neck.

"I'll miss you, too. Have a great time, Kurt, and be safe. Above all, be safe. No walking around by yourself – you hear me?"

"I won't, Dad. I promise," Kurt told his father, wiping tears from his eyes.

In a brief moment Burt is gone and Kurt is back in the town car, on his way back to the Upper West Side and Blaine.

"Master Kurt, Master Blaine asked me to give you a look at New York. Do you fancy a drive around town before we go back?" the driver asked.

"Oh, that would be perfection! Yes, please," Kurt enthuses, letting his sadness at leaving his dad slip away for now.

They take a tour of Manhattan: the Navy Yard, the river where Kurt can see the Statue of Liberty, then around to the fashion district, Wall Street, some of the museums, the zoo, Times Square and Broadway, and finally a leisurely drive through Central Park before he drops Kurt off at the front entrance of The Dakota.

"Thank you, Charles," he said, smiling at the man.

"It was my pleasure, young Master Kurt," he returns before driving off to the parking garage.

"Hey," Kurt smiles when Cooper answers the door.

"Blaine was sleeping, but I can hear him shifting around in there. Maybe he could use some company?" Coop asks with a smile for Kurt.

"Thanks, I will go see him."

"It's Kurt," he says when his knock is answered.

"Oh, back already? I thought Charles was going to give you a tour of the city?"

"He did. We saw everything!" Kurt crows, happy down to his socks.

"What did you like best?" Blaine asked, struggling to sit up. It's hard with his arm in a sling.

"Oh, that's hard to decide. Okay, I liked the fashion district. I got to see Parson's and Mood, too!"

"A fan of Project Runway, are you?" Blaine laughed.

Kurt helps him to sit, then asks if he wants his wheelchair.

"Yes, if you don't mind. I can call the butler if you don't want to lift me," Blaine offers, but Kurt scoffs and picks Blaine up and sets him in the chair.

"Comfy?"

"Yes, thank you," Blaine lets out his breath - taken away by his nerves as he put his arms around Kurt's neck to be lifted. It's going to be awkward with his new crush on his friend, but Blaine could use discretion. He was an Anderson, after all, and used to hiding his inner feelings.

Out on the street, Kurt asked which way to go.

"Over to the park, then follow your nose!"

Kurt laughed and pushed the wheelchair over to the park, walking along to where there are a lot of carts and a few food trucks along the road.

"Oh, I smell falafel, gyros, German bratwurst, and something Mexican?" Blaine whispered loudly to Kurt. "What strikes your fancy?"

"I've never had fala...what? Or gyros, either," Kurt said, his mouth watering at the smells coming from the trucks.

"Let's get an assortment and then have a tasting sort of picnic?"

"Sounds delicious."

Kurt helped Blaine as he picked several things from different vendors, then Blaine put up a hand as they were going towards the picnic tables.

"Stop!" Blaine demanded.

"Okay...everything alright?" Kurt asked, coming around to check on his charge.

"No, not at all. I smell...oh, Rosie? Is that you?" he called out.

A chubby, cheerful woman with long hair pulled back in a ponytail comes out from behind her cart.

"Blainey!" she squealed and came over, practically smothering him in her large bosom as she hugged him close and then pulled back to kiss him full on the mouth.

Kurt stood aghast, his mouth open unbecomingly.

"What are you doing in this chair?" she shouted.

"I had a little accident in Paris. I'm healing fine, my sweetheart. Nothing to worry about," he grinned, holding her hand.

"Blainey, why aren't you looking at me? What, did I get ugly since we last saw each other?"

"No, no..." he said, blushing. He seemed to have lost his ability to talk and waved to Kurt to take over.

"He can't see you. He hurt his head in the accident and he is blind, but he's having surgery tomorrow to fix it," Kurt explained.

"Oh, my poor baby. Here, let me get you each a sandwich..." she said, obviously at odds to find anything to say. She went back to her cart and opened the deep well, bringing out a huge lobster that she proceeded to cut open and dig out the juicy meat, putting it on the fresh-baked bread and adding condiments like melted butter.

"There, my Blainey, eat in good health and come see me when you're feeling better. Tell your brother Rosie says hello," she gushed, giving him a parting kiss and then Kurt one, too.

They found a quiet place on flat ground and Kurt spread the thick woolen blanket in the shade. He arranged the food, then helped Blaine to sit on the blanket.

"All set?"

"Yes, thank you. Shall we eat?" Blaine asked, taking in the delightful smell of the food.

"What shall I start with?" Kurt asked and a discussion follows as they sample the different foods, laughing and making faces as they eat the fare.

"Oh, the lobster roll is sinful," Kurt said as he takes another bite of his sandwich. "This is by far my favorite!"

"It is pretty special," Blaine agreed, loving the way Kurt gets excited at each taste of new food. He's already told Blaine that the gyro, the falafel, the brats, and the tamales were his favorites.

"So...what's with that woman – Rosie?"

"What do you mean?" Blaine countered, though he knows exactly what Kurt means.

"Ah...she kissed you. Twice. And tried to smother you with her breasts, I'm pretty sure," Kurt observed.

"Oh, yeah...well, I've known her since I was a little kid. She's had that lobster roll cart since I can remember. Her dad is a lobster fisherman, so she gets her stock from him every morning. I guess she's kind of like an aunt or something to me," Blaine explained.

"I've never had an aunt kiss me on the mouth before..." Kurt mumbled, wiping his mouth once more.

"She kissed you?" Blaine laughs, but feels a bit of jealousy, too. "Yeah. She takes some getting used to. I remember the first year I saw her. I was with Cooper and she came over to greet us. She might have remembered me from the week before or something, but she came over and kissed my cheek. Then she kissed Cooper full on his mouth. He just about fell over. It was so funny! Well, he ended up dating her for a while, but it didn't last. Now he takes her out when he's in town, but it's just as friends."

"Wow. I wonder..." Kurt said, but then saw a small dog chasing a butterfly and a small girl chasing after it. He held out a piece of the roll until the little dog got close, then grabbed it and held the squirming thing until the girl came with its leash.

"Got a hold of him now?" Kurt questioned.

"Yes, thank you, sir!" she squealed and was gone.

"You can't have dogs in this part of the park," Blaine said, realizing what had happened, "That's probably why she was so upset. That's a $300 ticket if she gets caught."

"And you know that..why?" Kurt asked.

Blaine laughed.

"You know – or at least you can guess."

"You got caught here with Macushla?"

"Yes. Twice. The second time my mother made me earn the money by washing cars and doing lawn work to pay her back," Blaine laughed.

They clean up the picnic and went back to the apartment, Kurt pushing the chair, Blaine holding Macushla's leash. He waved at Rosie as they passed, then stopped at a food truck.

"Want some dessert?" Kurt asked.

"Yes. What's on the menu?"

"What kind of ice cream do you like?"

"I know it's lame, but I love vanilla the best," he said and is handed a scoop of vanilla ice cream rolled in the cone-shaped waffle with caramel syrup drizzled over the top.

"I got the same. I'm a vanilla man, too."

Back in the apartment, Cooper met them at the door.

"Hey, it's after four. I was just coming to find you two. Are you hungry? We need to eat dinner now. You can't eat or drink after five o'clock because of your surgery tomorrow," Coop told his brother.

"I couldn't eat another bite! We went on a street food frenzy. Why don't you go get something? I bet you haven't had real street food in years," Blaine said.

"I am hungry..."

"Over by the trucks and carts in Central Park, there was a lobster roll cart you might like," Blaine said, his grin huge.

"Oh? Really? Well, I need to go check that out. I love me some lobster..." he said as he exited the apartment, a smile a mile wide on his face.

The boys laugh and Kurt takes Blaine to the restroom, then goes into his own room to just sit for a while. It's been an amazing day – his dad here in New York, winning the Nationals trophy, then the picnic in Central Park. He's had dreams that weren't this good.

He gets back to the restroom and helps Blaine back to the living room with its soft sofas and a big-screen television.

"Do you want to watch a movie...oh, I'm sorry. I didn't think," Kurt corrected himself.

"No, it's fine. Since I've seen all the movies here, I can see them in my head. I'd love to watch a movie with you, Kurt."

They decide on _Cabaret_ and sit on the sofa, Kurt's legs propped up on an ottoman, and Blaine sitting in the middle of the sofa with his legs stretched out on the rest of the cushions. Both sing along with Liza Minelli and Blaine smiles when Kurt hits all the high notes with no strain in his voice.

"How are you feeling about tomorrow?" Kurt asked.

"To tell you the truth, I'm scared. I don't know this doctor and there is so much at risk..." he said, his eyes filling with tears.

"Oh, Blaine, don't worry. This guy is the best, right?" Kurt tried to comfort him by taking his hand.

"I know. I'm just being silly. I wish my mom could have come, but she needs to be at her school. She's already taken a lot of time off and I told her that having Cooper here would be fine. I lied. I am so, so scared."

And with that, he burst into tears and Kurt took him in his arms, stroking down his temple and cheek in an attempt to give him some comfort. He rubbed his back with his other hand and the tears finally stopped, though Blaine didn't let go. He buried his face in Kurt's shoulder and hung on tightly.

"It's going to be okay, Blaine, it is. Do you want to call your mother now?"

"No. She'll call me in the morning. I have to be at the hospital at five, the surgery is at seven. She'll call me," he assured Kurt, but he was really trying to assure himself.

"Do you want to go to bed? It's eight now and you'll have to get up early."

"Yeah, I'm not really listening to the movie any more anyway," he admitted.

Kurt helped him into his chair and into his room, then getting him into pajamas and to bed. He pulled the covers up tight and left to get ready for bed himself. It wasn't until he'd turned off his lamp that he heard Blaine in his bed, crying.

"Hey, I thought we were over this..." he joked, walking into the large bedroom, but Blaine didn't look like he was in a humorous mood.

"Is...is Cooper back yet?" Blaine asked.

"No, sorry. His bedroom door was open, but the bed is still made."

"What time is it?"

"It's after midnight. Do you think everything is okay? Do I need to...call someone?" Kurt asked, not sure what was needed.

"No. He went to see Rosie, he probably won't be home for a while. Maybe not until morning," Blaine sighed. "Go back to bed, Kurt. I'm fine."

"Hey, now. I know you aren't fine. Why are you upset? Did you have a dream again?"

"No. I'm just a huge wimp. I'm scared of the surgery. When they did it the first time, right after the accident, I wasn't awake. I went from the street right to the hospital and into surgery. I don't remember anything clearly except seeing the Louvre. The rest is bits and pieces - I kind of remember playing around with Sebastian, but that's all. I don't remember the van or being hit or anything," he admitted. Kurt sat on the side of his bed and took his hand.

"I could tell you that you're going to be okay, but that isn't much coming from me, I know so little about it all. I can tell you that I will be with you as soon as they let me in to see you until you're so sick of me you tell me to leave," he tried to kid Blaine a bit.

"Does that start now?"

"Ah...sure. It can."

Blaine moves over in the queen-size bed and patted the mattress next to him. He didn't see Kurt's eyebrows reach his hairline. Blaine was so sure, he pulled up the covers to allow Kurt entry.

"Okay, but you better not be a blanket hog."

* * *

" _I Think I'm Gonna Like It Here_ " is from the 1977 Broadway musical **Annie** by Charles Strouse & Martin Charnin.


	6. As Long As He Needs Me

**My Reader – Chapter Six – As Long As He Needs Me**

Blaine had finally admitted to Kurt what his real fear was – not that he would die on the operating table, but that when it was all over he still wouldn't be able to see. There was nothing Kurt could do to relieve that anxiety - and with Cooper gone, he was all alone with Blaine.

Morning finally came and Blaine was a bit better, though he clung to Kurt like a leech.

"Hey, you feeling better? Maybe by this time tomorrow you'll be able to see?" Kurt encouraged.

"I guess we'll find out," Blaine said in a bitter tone.

Just as they were dressed and on their way to the front room, keys were heard in the lock and Cooper walked in.

"Ready to go? I called Charles and he's out front with the car," Cooper informed his brother and Kurt. "You coming to the hospital, Kurt?"

"Yes, he is. _He_ was here for me last night – where were _you_? Fucking Rosie?" Blaine lashed out.

Cooper froze, a look on his face like he'd been slapped.

"Blaine? Hey, buddy, you didn't call. Did you need me? All you had to do was call..." he asked the obvious and got a taste of Kurt's famous bitch-glare.

"No, apparently not," Blaine said, his words encased in ice.

Kurt realized it was better to stay on Blaine's good side and he resolved to take that into consideration with all his interactions with the younger Anderson son.

"If Charles is ready, let's go," Blaine said, glancing behind himself with his sightless eyes to get Kurt to push him.

Arriving at the hospital, Blaine was less icy towards his brother and grasped his hand as Kurt pushed the chair into the prep room. He sat in the chair beside the gurney as Cooper helped him get his clothes off and the tiny hospital gown on. Blaine was clearly embarrassed as he tucked the bottom of the gown between his legs to try and hide his genitals.

"Okay, slippers next," Cooper said, putting the fuzzy blue socks on his feet. "Warm enough?"

"I'm still a bit cold," Blaine complained.

The curtain was pulled aside and a small red-headed woman in bright pink scrubs entered.

"I'm Bridget and I'll be your nurse today. Here's a heated blanket for you, honey," she said, coming to wrap the blanket around the boy. She added a hair net, tucking in his curls and smiled.

"I bet your mother loved to play with these curls when you were little, right?" she asked, her warm hand calming him as she rubbed his arm.

"Ah, yes...I can remember her twirling them around her fingers and she said it was a pity I wasn't born a girl..." Blaine said, blushing.

"Well, you lay there and warm up. I've got another warm blanket to wrap around your arm to make it easier for us to get the IV needle in," she told him as she tied the tourniquet around his upper arm. "I'm good at this, I've been an OR nurse for over 30 years, so rest assured I will do my best for you. Okay, here is a little pinch."

She pushed the 18 gauge needle in his arm and got a good blood return, then hooked up the tubing and started the medication flowing, drip by drip.

"Everything still okay?" she asked.

"Yes, ma'am. I'm fine. Kurt? Can you come and hold me?" he asked, tears welling up in his eyes.

"I'm right here, Blaine. I promised I wouldn't leave you," he reassured the scared boy. "Cooper's here, too."

At that, Blaine held out his hand with the IV and the nurse gently placed it back across his chest.

"Your brother can hold your hand, but you need to let it rest here. You don't want the IV to come out, sweetie," Bridget admonished him with a gentle voice.

"Oh, okay," he said.

"Are you frightened or cold? You're shaking, Squirt," Cooper noticed and rubbed his shoulders.

"Both."

The nurse left and came back with more heated blankets and pulled off the first one, replacing it with two new ones. One went on his legs, spreading warmth from his toes to his chest. The other was wrapped around his shoulders like a cape.

"Ah, that's much better," he relaxed.

"Blaine Anderson?" a man came in dressed in scrubs.

"Yes?"

"I'm Dr. Woodruff and I'll be doing your surgery today. Did Dr. Larson go over what we're doing today?" he asked and Blaine shook his head no.

The doctor explained that they were going to make an incision in his scalp and open the bone in his skull with a tiny hole. They would place lights and a camera inside and then find the problem with his optic nerves and fix it.

Blaine wouldn't be able to see immediately, that would take between two and fourteen days. He would be in the hospital for a few days, then be able to go back to his home here in New York and just come to see the doctor every few days. He couldn't be on an airplane until the doctor gave him the go-ahead, the pressure would be bad for his brain.

"Do you have any questions?" the doctor asked.

"No."

"I do...will it hurt?" Kurt asked, worried that his friend would be in pain.

"It will a bit, but there will be medication for that," the doctor said. "If that's all, I will meet you in the operating room," he told Blaine and shook his hand.

When they could hear his footsteps leave the corridor, Blaine turned to Cooper and Kurt.

"He has warm hands, like really warm. Like Kurt's. I think I'm in good hands."

Cooper laid his hand on Blaine's chest.

"Yeah, baby brother, you are."

"Blaine Anderson?"

"Yes? Oh, the doctor was already here...?"

"That was the surgeon. My name is Dr. Lee. I'm your anesthesiologist and I'm in charge of getting you to sleep and watching over you while they operate. I have a little bit of medication that I will be putting in your IV. The first one will make you feel sleepy. Go ahead and just relax. It's okay if you fall asleep, but don't worry if you don't.

"The second medication is just to keep your tummy calm. Sometimes having surgery can upset your digestive track, and this helps. It keeps the fluids in your body from interfering with the surgery, too. Do you have any questions before I put this in?"

"Will you be there to make sure I wake up again?" Blaine asked, very afraid. Kurt squeezed his hand to remind him he was there and Cooper leaned down to kiss his forehead.

"Yes, of course. We use a drug that will make you fall asleep – not this one that makes you drowsy, but one that will make you fall into a deep sleep. After you're asleep, I will give you a gas that will keep you asleep until they're done. I will be monitoring your breathing and heart rate the whole time. Okay?"

"Yes, thank you for explaining," Blaine said. He laid back, still trembling with fear as the doctor pushed the syringe to administer the medications.

"Oh..." Blaine said, clutching Kurt's and Cooper's hands tightly. "Oh!"

"Are you okay? We're here, Blaine," Kurt whispered to him.

Blaine turned his head towards Kurt's voice.

"Stay with me..." he pleaded.

"They can walk with you to the operating room doors, then they have to leave, but when you wake up they'll both be with you. I will be with you for the whole surgery, okay?" the doctor said, He pushed the trolley down the hallway, through several doors, and stopped by the doors to the OR.

"Okay, kiss him goodbye and we'll get this done with," he said.

Cooper kissed his forehead, squeezed his hand, and patted his chest.

"I love you, baby brother. I'll see you on the other side," he said.

"I love you, too, Cooper. Kurt?"

"I'm here."

"Come closer?"

Kurt leaned close to hear what Blaine was going to whisper.

"I know we're just friends, but...can you kiss me?" he asked, not sure if he would live to actually have a romantic kiss.

"Sure..."

And Kurt kissed him on his warm lips, slowly and softly.

"Thank you," Blaine whispered.

And they were gone.

* * *

Kurt shifted position once more, looking up to see where Cooper had gotten to. The man could not hold still to save his life and it had been over three hours already. Kurt had suggested that Cooper go walk around the hospital grounds or get something to eat. He promised to call him if they got word from the surgeon. The surgery might be up to five hours and Kurt was glad he'd brought his small notepad computer and even more thankful the hospital had free WiFi. He had been reading a book on the Kindle portion of the notepad.

He was reading Patti Lupone's memoirs and dreamed of seeing her as Helena Rubinstein in _War Paint_ on Broadway. He realized he'd dozed off when someone sat near him in one of the chairs in the small waiting room.

The man was not tall, but held himself bolt upright, as if he'd been in the military. He had soft black curls all over his head and bright, twinkling honey-brown eyes with long eyelashes. He smiled at Kurt.

"Waiting for a loved one?" he asked. "Can I get you some coffee?"

"My friend is having surgery, and yes, that would be delightful. I like a lot of cream and sugar, please."

The man stepped out of the room into an alcove and came back with a large Styrofoam cup and a stirring stick.

"I hope I got it right. I take mine black, so I don't always know how much cream or sugar to put in. Tell me if it's awful and I can get you another," he offered.

Kurt took the cup and gave the handsome man a smile.

"Its perfect. Are you here for a loved one?" he asked.

"Yes, my son is having an operation today. I wasn't able to get here before he went in, my flight was late, but I'll be here when he wakes up."

"That must be hard. Were you visiting somewhere?"

"No. I was away at work. I don't see my son as often as I would like due to my work, but it's important and he understands," the man said. Kurt wondered how often he did see his son, but it wasn't his business and he sent a thought up to his mother about how glad he was that Burt was always there for him.

The minutes ticked on and Kurt wondered where Cooper was. Then he remembered his absence last night. Maybe he found another old girlfriend to carouse with...

"Family of Blaine Anderson?" the surgeon came out of the swinging double door.

"Yes," both Kurt and the man said, then looked at each other in surprise.

"Ah...the two of you? Where is his brother?"

"Cooper stepped out. I'm his friend and I came in with him," Kurt said.

"Yes, son, I remember you. And you are?" the doctor asked.

"I am his father, Linden Anderson," the man said and shook the doctor's hand.

"The surgery went very well, even better than we had anticipated. Blaine's head is in bandages and he is not to pick at them. He'll be groggy for a while, but when the drugs wear off, he'll feel okay. I've given him a pain medication that will make him drowsy for the next six hours, but he should be able to talk to you when he wakes up," the doctor told them.

"Will he be able to see?" Kurt asked.

"I believe he will. There was pressure on his optic nerves here..." the doctor drew a sketch on the back of a pad of paper he got from the reception desk.

"There was a swelling pressing across here, and we drained the built-up fluid. The tissue will take a while to reduce the swelling, but his sight should be restored slowly over the next few days. Don't let him stress over the slow return of his sight. It should be just the way it was before the accident by three weeks from now. I need to see him every three to five days. I have to go, I have another surgery, but if you have questions please don't hesitate to call me," he said, handing the two men his card.

"Thank you, doctor," Dr. Anderson said and shook his hand.

"The recovery room nurse will call you as soon as he's awake."

Cooper walked in a few minutes later and smiled at Kurt, then he saw his father standing on the other side of the room.

"Dad!" he shouted, practically running towards the man and throwing his arms around him.

"Cooper, so good to see you!"

"I thought you were in Paris?" Cooper gushed, obviously happy to see his father.

"No, I was in Dublin then had to take a meeting in Reykjavik. I thought as long as I was flying, I might be able to make it here to see Blaine. I guess I missed him before the surgery but I'm here now," Linden told his son.

"I know Blaine will be over the moon to see you," he said, then noticed Kurt standing a ways away, not wanting to intrude.

"Kurt, come join us. I assume you've met my dad?"

"Not officially...the surgeon just left from giving us the update on Blaine. I was about to call you."

"How is the squirt?"

Kurt told Cooper what the doctor had said.

"Okay, we'll be on the lookout for him to freak then. I'll tell the home care nurse," Cooper said, then turned to his father.

"Dad, this is Kurt Hummel, a friend of Blaine's from Westerville. He'll be staying with him until Squirt can go back to Ohio. Kurt, this is my father, Dr. Linden Anderson..." Cooper started.

"It's so nice to meet you, Kurt Hummel. Can I call you Kurt?"

"Of course, Dr. Anderson,"

"Then please call me Linden."

Kurt blushed.

"I'm sorry, sir. I was raised to respect my elders. It seems strange to call you by your first name," Kurt said.

"I'd prefer it. I don't stand on ceremony and my friends all call me Linden. I hope that since you are such a good friend to Blaine that we can be friends also," the man said, smiling at Kurt.

He had the same charming smile as both of his sons and Kurt felt at ease with him.

"Alright, Linden it is. It's good to meet you, too."

Just as they had gotten seated, a nurse came to find them.

"Blaine's awake and he's calling for Kurt?" she told the men. "Only two can come back to see him, though."

"You two go. I'm fine to wait," Kurt said, "You're his family after all."

"But he's calling for you, Kurt. You promised you'd be there when he woke up. I'll stay here. I'll get to see him when he is in his hospital room, so I'm fine," Cooper offered.

"Here's my notepad computer, you can play games if you're bored or catch up on facebook. The hospital has WiFi."

"Thanks, kid. I'll see you two in a while."

Kurt walked with Linden behind the nurse, hearing Blaine's cries long before they saw him.

"Where's Kurt? My head hurrrrtts..." Blaine cried.

"Hey, I'm here, just like I promised. Did they give you something for pain yet?" Kurt asked.

"Yes, but it didn't work," Blaine complained.

"I'm here with another dose, Blaine. I'm administering it now..." the nurse, Bridget, said as she pressed the plunger of the syringe into the IV.

"Oh..." Blaine sighed. "That's a little better. Thank you," he sighed. "Kurt? Hold my hand please? Is Cooper here? Hold my hand, Coop?" Blaine asked, his eyes pleading although he couldn't see.

"Coop is in the waiting room. I brought you someone else," Kurt cooed, hoping this would make things better – though he was a bit scared since he didn't know how Blaine would react.

"Mama?"

"No, son. It's me," Linden said, reaching over to rub Blaine's shoulders.

"Dad?" he asked, a look of wonder on his face. "I thought you were in Iceland? That's what your e-mail said yesterday."

"I was, but I couldn't leave you to do this on your own. I flew in this morning. I didn't know what time your surgery was, so I stopped by the apartment. Macushla just about ate me! That dog has gotten even bigger since I saw him last!" Linden laughed.

Blaine smiled.

"I'm glad you're here, Dad," he said and squeezed his hand. He never let go of Kurt, though.

"So, is Kurt your boyfriend?" Linden asked, winking at Kurt.

Kurt took a deep breath.

"No, he's my friend from Ohio. Mother asked him to come to New York with me and stay until I go home. I need to get better so I can show him the sights," Blaine grinned. It didn't last long as he felt pain in his head again and blinked his eyes to try and relieve it. He didn't want to ask for more pain medication.

They spoke for a little while longer until Blaine's complexion got very pale and he stopped talking.

"Nurse! Bridget!" Kurt shouted, not sure what to do. Linden looked around and found the nurse call button and pushed it.

The nurse was there in a flash and looked at Blaine, then at the machine that was monitoring his pulse and oxygen.

"Hey, sweetie, how do you feel?"

Blaine shook his head and held his hand over his mouth. The nurse was quick and got the container by his mouth before he spewed a lot of fluid out, holding his belly. When he was done, the nurse helped him wash out his mouth and wiped his face.

"There, all done?" she asked and Blaine nodded. "Don't worry, that happens a lot. I'm going to give you something for that, then when you feel better I'll give you some toast. Okay?"

Blaine nodded and the nurse gave him some medication through the IV.

"Do you need pain medication?" she asked.

"I don't want to take too much," he said, but it was obvious he was in pain.

"Honey, you are not going to get hooked on this. You need to take it when you hurt because if you wait then you'll need much more to get the pain under control. So, tell me when it hurts, deal?"

"Oh, okay," Blaine said, his eyes drooping. He was asleep by the time the drug was all in his system.

"He'll sleep for a while, then probably feel better when he wakes up. Call me if he seems in pain," she said and was gone.

"How did you meet my son?" asked Linden, obviously uncomfortable with the silence.

"Dr. Anderson...oh, you're both Dr. Anderson...your wife hired me to read to Blaine. He said he wasn't learning Braille or anything because they expected his sight to return. I've been reading to Blaine for about three months now."

"Ah, I didn't know. Margaret didn't tell me Blaine had a reader. That was very kind of you, Kurt," he said, nodding.

"I needed a job after school so I didn't have to do after-school activities. I don't like hanging around the school when there are not as many teachers. I was happy to get a job and even happier that it was Blaine. I think we've evolved into good friends," Kurt said.

"That's good. So, are you a Warbler with Blaine?"

"No, I go to McKinley in Lima. We just had our Nationals Competition and we won. The Warblers came in second – maybe because Blaine wasn't singing with them?"

"That's nice of you to say. Yes, I think my son has a spectacular voice, but I'm his dad," Linden laughed. Kurt was liking this man more and more.

"Blaine was bullied in his junior high school – did he tell you?"

"No."

"He went to a dance with another boy and they got beat up after the dance. Lucky for him, it was the end of the year and he started my wife's school the next year."

"Your wife's school?"

"Yes. She started a boy's prep school when we moved to Westerville. Dalton?" he said, looking at Kurt. "Didn't you know that after all that time spent with Blaine?"

"Ah, no. I didn't know what Dr. Anderson did, other than it was something to do with education, much less that she was the founder of Dalton," Kurt said, looking hard at his sleeping friend. _What else did Blaine fail to tell him?_

"To be fair, we weren't friends until just a short time ago. Dr. Anderson was strict that I was there to read and nothing else," Kurt said.

Linden laughed harder.

"Ol' Margaret is a teddy bear. She may look prim and proper on the outside, but she has a heart of gold. And a sense of humor if you can find it," Linden said.

"Kurt? Dad? I can't see!" Blaine shouted, then tried to sit up, blinking his eyes.

"No, honey, the doctor relieved the pressure, but he told us your sight will come back gradually. You mustn't worry about it. I know it will be frustrating, but it will come back, okay?" Linden said, putting his arms around Blaine and holding him close.

"Okay...I guess they told me that. Okay..." he said, still drowsy from the medication.

"I heard a voice. Is that you, Blaine? Feeling better sweetie?" Bridget returned.

"Yes, ma'am. My stomach is better. Thank you. Oh, and my head is, too. It still hurts a little, but it's much better," he told her.

"Good. How about some toast now? And maybe a bit of ginger ale?"

"Yes, please. My mouth is so dry," he complained.

"That's from the medication they gave you for surgery. It will get better. As soon as you can switch to oral pain medication, we can have you on your way upstairs," she smiled.

An hour later and Blaine was upstairs in a bed. Cooper was there with their dad and Kurt was down in the cafeteria getting a bit to eat.

"Dad? How long can you stay?" Blaine asked.

"Until you're well enough to go back to the apartment at least, maybe a week or so longer. Why, are you tired of me already?" Linden laughed.

"No, Dad. I've missed you so much..." Blaine said, and started to cry.

"Oh, hey now, no tears! You just saw me a few months ago. I'll be back in Ohio before the end of summer. I have a few things to set in motion, then I can take some time to stay home for a while. Maybe you guys can come stay in New York for part of the summer? I'll be in my office here for a good part of it," Linden smiled, stroking his son's hair from his eyes. The bandage pushed the curls down on his forehead.

"I wonder how much of your curls got shaved? I bet it was like shearing a sheep with that woolly head of yours," Cooper said, combing his own shiny, curly hair from his forehead with his fingers and grinning. "Hey, I just noticed...my hair is just wavy and so I wonder if your curly hair is some indication of you being gay..."

"Shut up!" Blaine shouted, hitting the air where he thought his brother was.

"Hey, now – I was just joking, Squirt," he said apologetically.

"Well, stop. It's bad enough you tease me about my hair, don't start on me being gay, too."

"Cooper, that wasn't nice. You know better," Linden admonished him, looking less than pleased with his elder son. "You are a professor at Princeton, act like one."

"Oh, Dad, if you only knew how Princeton faculty actually acted..." Cooper rolled his eyes. "And if we're talking about being sensitive to Blaine's gayness – who was it that bought an old junk car and tried to get him to restore it with you two summers ago? What, was that supposed to make him straight?"

Linden blushed.

"Okay, that was a mistake. And it wasn't to 'make him straight', it was just an attempt to get us together to bond a little better. My dad and I rebuilt a '38 LaSalle convertible. I had such good memories of that, I thought I'd try it with Blaine."

"It's okay, Dad. I did have fun with that car. I just wish I had been able to drive it," Blaine said, weighing into the conversation.

Kurt walked in at that point.

"How are you feeling, Blaine?" he asked as the boy reached for his hand. Kurt took it in his and sat beside the bed.

"Much better. I'm really disappointed that I can't see, but I know that will take time."

Blaine took naps between chatting with his family and Kurt.

"It's time to go, Squirt. We'll be there tomorrow morning, okay?" Cooper said.

"Okay. I'm so tired..." Blaine said, laying back against the pillow. "Can Kurt stay?"

"We'll ask the nurses," Linden said.

"Hey, kid. I'll be here in the morning, but I need to get back to school. I can't be gone very long. I need to give my classes their finals next week."

"That's fine, Coop. Thank you for coming to be with me. I love you."

"I love you, too, kid," Cooper says and gives his little brother a kiss on the forehead.

"I'll be back, too. I need to go into the office for a while, but I'll be here in the afternoon. Okay?" Linden added.

"Fine. I love you, Dad."

"I love you, too, son."

Linden hugged his son and felt very reluctant to leave, but he'd been up for almost 24 hours straight and he needed to rest.

"Goodnight, Blaine."

"'Night, Dad."

The room was quiet and Blaine fell sound asleep. The nurse came in and got a folding cot and some sheets for Kurt to sleep.

The surgeon came in and examined Blaine, looking closely at the bandages to be sure there was no leakage. He shined a light in his eyes and nodded his head.

"There is some reaction from his pupils, even this early in the game. I think this is going to go well," he told Kurt while Blaine slept.

"Thank you, doctor."

It was around two in the morning when Blaine woke up, crying once more.

"Hey, Blaine. I'm here with you. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I think so. I dreamed that a bright light was shining. Does that mean I'm going to die?"

"No, Blaine. You're fine. The surgeon was in while you slept and he said everything is fine. Do you need me to do anything?"

"No, just...can you hold my hand until I'm asleep again?"

"Sure."

Kurt pushed his cot next to Blaine and reached out, holding his hand tightly.

"Good night, Blaine. I'll be here in the morning."

"Thank God for you, Kurt."

* * *

" _As Long As He Needs Me"_ is from the West End [1960]/Broadway [1963] musical **Oliver!** by Lionel Bart.


	7. I've Got a Crush On You

**My Reader – Chapter Seven – I've Got A Crush On You**

'It's morning?" Blaine asked, rubbing the bandages over his eyes and yawning.

"Yeah, its about eight. I was just going to wake you for breakfast," Kurt said, gently moving Blaine's hands away from his face. "I hope you don't mind that I ordered for you."

"What's on the menu?" Blaine asked, letting Kurt hold his hands for a moment.

"Cream of wheat cereal, toast, and fresh fruit. Or I ordered scrambled eggs, bacon, and yogurt with fruit. Your choice," Kurt rattled off.

"The cream of wheat sounds great. Thank you, Kurt. Did you sleep well?"

"Not bad – except when this whiny kid kept waking me up," he kidded.

"I'm so sorry about that, Kurt. Maybe you should have gone home with Dad," Blaine blushed.

"No, I'm just joking with you. It was fine. Are you feeling better today?"

"Much. I didn't need the heavy pain medication after about midnight, I'm just taking tylenol now. It's easier to think," Blaine smiled.

"The doctor told me you should begin to see very soon. He said your pupils were reactive and that was a good sign," Kurt smiled.

"I can hardly wait. For months I've wanted to see what you look like, Kurt. Tell me again, what do your eyes look like?"

"Oh, Blaine. I'm not telling you again. I have told you so many times, and it makes me blush," Kurt admitted.

"Why did you stay with me the whole time? Was it just so Mother would pay you?"

"Oh, my God, Blaine. No, no it wasn't. She pays me to _read_ to you – the rest is because we're friends. Okay?" Kurt said, his irritation clearly coming through in his voice.

Silence.

"I'm sorry. That was rude of me. Can you forgive me? I'm not used to feeling like this," Blaine said.

"Yes, you are forgiven. Feeling like what?"

"Like...oh, I don't know the words to say it. Just never mind," Blaine said, embarrassed because of his feelings towards Kurt when he didn't know how the other boy felt.

"No, its okay. Just tell me?" Kurt asked, afraid that Blaine would tire of him and want him to go back to Ohio now that his dad was here.

"I just...I loved your voice. When you sang _Blackbird_? It was...it was amazing and it made me feel so much. Out of that whole auditorium, Kurt, it was like you were singing just to me," he said, tears welling in his eyes under the bandages. He reached up and found Kurt's cheek and cupped it in his hand. He was about to kiss him when the door opened and someone walked in.

"Good morning, Squirt," Cooper said, coming over to hug his little brother.

"Cooper – I thought you had to get back to Princeton?"

"I do. I just wanted to say goodbye. I'll be back this coming weekend to see you, okay?"

"Of course. Say hi to the Tiger for me," he laughed and Cooper bumped his nose.

"You're cute. Okay, be good and call me every day to let me know how you're doing. Take Kurt to Dad's office for a tour, I bet he'd like that," Cooper said.

"Will do. Love you," Blaine said and smiled as Cooper hugged him close before sweeping out the door.

"Wow, your brother is a whirlwind," Kurt said, enjoying the smile that was finally on Blaine's face.

"Yeah, he is."

"What tiger?" Kurt asked.

"The Princeton Tiger, of course. He teaches at Princeton, I thought I told you."

"Yes, you did...oh, the Tiger must be the mascot?"

"Yes. Don't you follow football?" Blaine laughed.

"Nope. Never."

"I follow football, especially Princeton, but I know enough Broadway songs to keep my gay card current," Blaine said and Kurt laughed.

The moment they almost had was gone now, and Kurt was so confused by it that he didn't bring it up. Had Blaine been about to kiss him?

Dr. Woodruff came to examine Blaine and told him that if everything was good the next day that he could go home to his New York apartment, though no plane rides for a while. He shined the bright light in Blaine's eyes and the boy winced.

"We're making progress!" he said and was gone the next minute.

Linden Anderson came around noon, bringing a good-smelling bag of food with him.

"I stopped at the Mid-Eastern food truck..."

"I smell lamb, did you bring me Kofta?" Blaine practically squealed.

"Yes, my son. And an assortment of other food," he said as he took the sticks with meatballs formed on them out of the bag and set them on the bed-tray. "I also got Shish Tawook. Do you like that, Kurt?"

"I have never had any Mid-Eastern dishes, except for hummus and the falafel Blaine and I had on Sunday. Can you tell me what all of these are?"

"Of course. Shish Tawook is curried chicken, Dolmas are grape leaves stuffed with lamb and vegetables, Shanklish is sheep's milk cheese rolled in herbs, and Taboulah is wheat berry salad with mint, tomatoes, and lemon," Linden explained as he set each dish on the table. "And last of all, Iraqi Masgouf – which is a slow-roasted fish with pickles and lemon."

"Dad...did you get us dessert?" Blaine asked. He was hungry from having his stomach empty for the surgery.

"Eat your lunch first, Blaine," his dad laughed.

Kurt was forming an opinion of Linden Anderson, very different that he thought it would be. Linden was always laughing, always playful and loving with his sons – then why didn't Blaine mention his dad in all that time?

They ate the different foods, Kurt loving all but the extra spicy chicken dish.

"There's a piece of the Shish Tawook left, Kurt. Eat up!" Linden offered.

"Thank you, sir, but no, I'm practically full," Kurt said.

"You don't like it?" asked Blaine, hearing a hesitance in his friend's voice.

"Well, I'm not all that fond of chicken, and it has a bit more garlic than I normally like. I love the Taboulah, though. That is amazing! And the fish! What do you call that?"

"Iraqi Masgouf."

"Yeah, that's the best fish I ever put in my mouth. I bet even my dad would love that," Kurt gushed. "And he only eats trout that he just pulled out of the river."

"Okay, Dad. I saved room for dessert. What did you bring?" Blaine laughed and Kurt hadn't seen him this animated the whole time he'd known him.

Linden placed several dishes on the tray after clearing up the lunch. He scooped a bit of one into a spoon and put it in Blaine's mouth. The boy's face lit up as he swallowed it.

"Oh...Knafeh! You'll really love this, Kurt. It's a kind of cheesecake, flavored with orange blossom water. Divine."

Kurt took a small taste and closed his eyes to savor the flavor.

Dr. Anderson opened another container and gave Blaine a spoonful, then encouraged Kurt to do the same.

"Oh! That's ...wow!" Kurt said, not knowing how to express himself. "What's in that? It isn't sweet like an American dessert."

"It is actually minced lamb mixed with dark cherries. They're cooked in the cherry sauce then pomegranate pips and pine nuts are added. Technically it isn't a dessert, but I like it better than most desserts," Linden said, taking another big taste.

"Okay, where's the Baklava?" Blaine asked, searching the bags with his hands.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Blaine," Linden said, very innocent while he held another bag above his head. Blaine sniffed the air and then climbed almost into his dad's lap and reached for it, his casts keeping him from being very effective. Grinning as he caught it and opened the bag, took out a piece of the honey-soaked pastry and popped it into his mouth.

"Thank-you, Dad," he smiled, licking his fingers when they were all done.

"Of course, Blaine. I'm so relieved to see you're better. How do you feel?"

"I'm feeling pretty good today. I keep thinking I see a flash of light, but then when I look closer, there's nothing there. I guess I'll just have to be patient," he sighed, feeling for Kurt's hand.

"Yes, thank you so much Dr. Anders...sorry, Linden." Kurt corrected his mistake and smiled at his friend's father.

"You are entirely welcome. I guess there aren't a lot of different food options in Lima, Ohio – though they do have a German festival in September, right?"

"Yes, they do. It's great if you like bratwurst and beer – but not exactly a culinary masterpiece," Kurt bemoaned. "If I want hummus, I have to make my own."

"Well, we'll have to remedy that while you're in New York," Linden said.

* * *

Kurt spent the night alone in the apartment but was back bright and early the next day and the doctor allowed Blaine to go home.

"I still can't see, so you can still read for me, can't you Kurt?" Blaine asked.

"Of course. I'm here for whatever you need," he answered, taking Blaine's hand and giving it a squeeze.

Charles, the driver, was waiting outside the hospital for them and Kurt took Blaine down in his wheelchair.

"When do you need to go to physical therapy?" Kurt asked.

"I think the first one here is on Thursday. Will you go with me? Even if I can see by then?" Blaine sounded worried.

"Yes, I'd be glad to go with you. Do you have a doctor here in New York? I mean besides Dr. Woodruff."

"Yes. Dr. Ethan has been my doctor since I was a baby. He was the first doctor I saw when I got back to New York after the accident, so he's aware of all the issues. I'll see him right before my PT. It's in the same building," Blaine said.

They were at the entrance of the hospital, nurse accompanying them when Kurt spotted Charles, there to take them back to the apartment at The Dakota.

* * *

The doctor's appointment turned out to be very successful. Blaine's air-casts were both removed after his X-rays and he was given the go-ahead to start physical therapy. They went to another part of the building and Blaine began the road to walking again. Because of the arm healing from a break of both the humerus and the ulna, he couldn't use crutches so he had to use the wheelchair for a bit longer.

"You can do this, Blaine. Just try," Kurt coaxed his friend.

The therapist was supporting Blaine, but letting him put weight on his recovering leg.

"The muscles need to be built up again, they've been inactive in the cast while the bone healed, but you'll get back to walking soon," the therapist said as Blaine took one step after another.

"It feels funny, plus it hurts a bit. Can we work on my arm for a while?" Blaine asked after twenty minutes with working on his leg.

"Sure. Just sit here and I'll see what I can do with it," she said, holding Blaine's arm by the wrist and elbow, bending it to see what his range of motion was.

It was hard work, but Blaine made progress and the therapist told them he would progress better if he had a partner to help him do the exercises. Kurt was shown how to help, how far Blaine should be able to go by the next appointment.

Kurt pushed the wheelchair down the hall and out to the waiting town car.

"Well, that took the wind out of my sails," Blaine complained, "But I think it will help in the long run. Are you okay to help me twice a day?"

"Sure. I thought you did really well in there. It looked painful – are you okay?" Kurt asked.

"I'm fine. I just want to be able to see and to run again. That's my wish for my birthday – to be able to run across Central Park by myself."

Kurt smiled. He wanted that, too.

"When is your birthday?"

"July 7th."

"That is about a month away – I think its doable," Kurt smiled. It would be so nice to walk through Central Park – or even run.

* * *

That night after his exercises, Blaine was tucked into bed by his father and Kurt read to him for about an hour before he got sleepy. Blaine yawned for the third time.

"I guess that's good night then," Kurt announced, stretching his arms and yawning himself. He set the book down on the small table next to the chair he was sitting in.

"Thank you, Kurt. It's so nice to hear your voice reading to me. I'm going to miss that when I'm better," he said, sitting up.

"I'll miss reading to you," Kurt admitted.

"I'm going to miss more than that. I'm going to miss _you_. Will you still come see me? Even after I can see again?" Blaine sounded upset, so Kurt reached over and took his hand.

"We're friends, right? Of course I'll come see you," Kurt comforted Blaine, but the note of desperation in his voice brought Macushla to the side of his bed and Kurt rubbed the huge dog's ears.

"Hey, boy. I can run with you again when I'm able to walk and see," Blaine said to his wolfhound in a soft voice. "Has he been out tonight?"

"Yeah, your dad took him for a run right after dinner," Kurt said, looking at his hand in Blaine's. He wondered what Blaine really thought of him. Did he like Kurt? They had been so close, Kurt wondered if Blaine had wanted to kiss him that once. Was he brave enough to kiss Blaine again? Would that be taking advantage of him? Kurt sighed, this was too much to deal with.

"Kurt? Is everything okay?" Blaine asked.

"Yeah – just thinking. Sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry. Is something bothering you? I can't see your face, but your voice sounds - - I don't know, kind of sad or resigned?" Blaine asked.

"I'm just a little confused. Nothing to worry about."

"Kurt? Can you sit closer to me? I was wondering...can I kiss you?"

Kurt paled, then the blood ran up to his face as he flushed red.

"Kurt? Oh. Did I overstep? Just pretend I didn't say anything, I'm..." was all Blaine said before he heard Kurt stand up and then warm lips gently brushed over his and he reached out, holding Kurt's cheeks and pulling him closer. He put his own lips on Kurt's and gave him a soft kiss. Soft - but it lasted a long time and finally Kurt pulled back.

"Was that...was that what you needed, Blaine?" he asked.

"Oh, Kurt. That was wonderful. Can we do it again?"

Instead of saying anything, Kurt sat on the side of Blaine's bed and pulled him into his arms, placing his lips on Blaine's mouth and giving him another kiss. Long and warm, Blaine scooted closer and then flipped the covers off and patted the mattress beside himself. Kurt moved to sit closer by Blaine and kiss him again, his arms around the boy as he kissed him for all he was worth. It was quite a while before Kurt took a breath and pulled back a bit to look at Blaine's face.

"Blaine, you are such an attractive guy. So amazing – you are kind and sweet and intelligent, just perfect for me," Kurt whispered into Blaine's ear.

"I wish I could see you."

"Why? Would you go screaming into the night if you found out I'm ugly?" Kurt asked.

"No, of course not! I already think you're beautiful, Kurt. Every time I touch your face it reaffirms the picture I have in my head of you," Blaine said, running his fingertip across Kurt's cheek, down his jaw. He felt across his cheek, then using just his fingertips he touched over Kurt's eyes, amazed at the thin skin of his eyelids. He pulled back, not wanting to overstep Kurt's boundaries.

Kurt smiled, blushing at the compliment.

"See, now you're smiling. I guess I don't need my vision to 'see' you," Blaine said softly before kissing Kurt one more time.

A bit of dim light flickered across his vision and Blaine shuttered. He didn't want his vision to come back very soon because he was worried Kurt might want to go home. Blaine didn't want to lose Kurt.

* * *

" _I've Got A Crush On You"_ is from the 1930 Broadway musical **Strike Up the Band** by George & Ira Gershwin.


	8. Wouldn't It Be Lovely?

**My Reader – Chapter Eight – Wouldn't It Be Lovely?**

"Do we have any plans today?" Blaine asked Kurt after breakfast.

"No, well, just helping you with your physical therapy if you need me," Kurt replied.

"I need to be at the therapist's at eight. I'm only scheduled for half an hour every day this week. Then they'll bump it up to a full hour next week," Blaine explained.

Kurt rolled his eyes. He knew all of this, he had been at the doctor's office with Blaine, then at every one of his appointments. Blaine's brother had gone back to Princeton, and his dad was at work...wherever that was. Linden Anderson was still a big mystery and Kurt wanted answers, but each time he thought of asking it just didn't seem right. Actually, Kurt was still reeling from last night's kiss.

"Kurt? Are you still in here?" Blaine asked, sounding a little scared or confused.

"I'm right here, Blaine," Kurt said, placing his hand over the boy's hand in front of him. "Sorry, I guess I let my attention wander – I'm kind of tired."

"Do you need to get another hour of sleep? I woke you up kind of early. I thought my dad would be here to help me get dressed and ready for the day, but he must have left early," Blaine said with a sadness in his voice.

Kurt looked around to be sure none of the Anderson's staff was around. They didn't seem to have as many people on staff in the New York apartment as they did in the Ohio mansion.

"I'm fine. Just missing my dad a little bit. I hate being away from him for more than a few days. I guess we're not used to being apart."

There was a silence that made Kurt think he'd said something wrong – especially when he saw the hurt look in Blaine's eyes.

"Blaine? What did I say?" Kurt asked.

"You should be feeling lucky you get to see your father every day. It's hell when the dad you love with all your heart is always gone." Blaine grabbed his sunglasses from beside his plate and shoved them on his face so Kurt couldn't see him crying.

"Oh, Blaine...is that why I never heard him mentioned before we came to New York? I had thought your dad had passed away or maybe your parents were divorced. Oh, shit! Please tell me I didn't just put my foot in my mouth again! Blaine, are they divorced? Is that why your dad wasn't in Ohio?"

Blaine laughed.

"Wow, I can tell you're a writer. What an imagination! No, Dad is just busy with his career. I tell you what...if you want to go somewhere today, we can go visit him at his office. Does that sound like a fun thing to do?" Blaine offered, a huge smile on his face.

* * *

Kurt had thought that Blaine was moody – jumping from being in the doldrums to being joyously ecstatic on the turn of a dime – due to his jangled nerves from the accident, or maybe from the medication. In any case, Blaine was once again in a great mood as they rode in the back of the Lincoln town car to Linden Anderson's office. Kurt was still in the dark as to what it was that Linden did, but he was tired of asking either Blaine or Charles, the Anderson's driver - who had obviously been asked to keep it mum.

Blaine had asked Charles to go the scenic way and Kurt appreciated it. Spring in New York was breathtaking. The flowers were blooming all over the city, in every park. He described the displays of spring flowers in the gardens as they drove along the pathways in Central Park.

"There are shades of pink – row after row of tulips from delicate shell pink through sunset pink to what my dad would call 'titty nipple' pink." Kurt laughed.

Blaine sat staring at Kurt through his sightless eyes, mouth agape in a slightly unattractive way. Kurt reached over to touch his chin with one fingertip and close it.

"Kurt! You can't just blurt out something like that!" Blaine blushed, making Kurt laugh harder.

"Nobody can hear me but you – even the partition is closed," Kurt countered, laughing a bit more. Blaine slapped his shoulder, but missed his target and got Kurt on the face.

"Oh! No, Kurt, I'm sorry. I was just play-slapping your shoulder!"

Kurt sat, a bit stunned, but figured he deserved it.

"Hey, it's fine. Oh! The daffodils are blooming in this garden, iris all around them. The bright yellow with the deep purple is so beautiful. I can hardly wait for your sight to get better. Are you seeing anything yet?" Kurt asked, though he thought Blaine would be shouting it from the rooftops if he could.

"No, but Dr Woodruff said it would return gradually. I know it's so close, I'm trying not to dwell on it. I'm fine today getting an oral description of the sights. Thank you, by the way, Kurt, for being so patient with me," Blaine smiled.

"Oh...well, I am happy to help."

They drove through the city towards the East River and turned on FDR Drive.

"Oh, my God...no!" Kurt blurted out.

"What?" Blaine asked, ducking down and covering his head, his arm over his eyes.

"No, Blaine, I'm sorry...I didn't mean to startle you. I just thought of something. We're in Midtown, right?"

"Yes. Why?"

"I won't judge you – you don't have any influence on what your parents do. Does your father work..." Kurt didn't want to finish the sentence.

"Kurt, what are you looking at?" Blaine asked, knowing it couldn't be his father's office.

"Trump Towers?"

Blaine got a very stricken look on his face.

"Oh, no! Dad would never work for that man!" he shouted, getting very agitated. "No, he does not share any political or ideological views with that man!"

"Okay, I'm sorry, Blaine. It didn't make sense, but when I saw Trump Tower...it scared me."

"Yeah, I suppose it would. No, just a short time and we'll be there."

Kurt looked around and saw signs for Turtle Bay neighborhood, then a lot of foreign consulates. He wondered briefly what Linden Anderson did when they drove in front of a huge building with dozens of brightly colored flags waving in front of it. Charles parked and helped Blaine into his wheelchair, then gave Kurt a pat on the back as he looked up at the huge building.

"Oh, my gosh, Blaine...your dad works for the United Nations?" Kurt asked, and it all fit into place like puzzle pieces.

Blaine was grinning, basking in the awe of Kurt Hummel as he drank in what it was that Linden Anderson did.

"He's an Ambassador?" Kurt gulped.

"Yes. He has a doctorate in Education just like my mother. They met while they were in college. After grad school he and mom got married. He works for UNESCO."

"What's UNESCO? I mean, I've heard of it, but I don't know exactly what those letters stand for or what it does," Kurt said, just standing in front of the building. "I understand that's why he's gone so often...but why don't you speak about him? Or your mother? She never mentioned him," Kurt said.

"Lots of questions. I'll answer the last ones first. Mother and Father love each other very much, Kurt, but Dad chose to work for the United Nations and it is something close to both of their hearts. Mother wanted to work for them, but she had two children to take care of – so she stayed home with Cooper and me. Dad followed his dream with Mother's blessing.

"I don't mention him because it hurts. I know in my head that he loves me and we see each other whenever we can, but there are long pieces of time where I am not in contact with him. You understand?" Blaine asked, staring over Kurt's shoulder where he thought his face was.

Kurt gave him a hug.

"Yeah, I understand," he said, feeling awful for all the things he was thinking.

"As for your other questions, I think Dad can tell you more, but I'll start with UNESCO. The letters stand for United Nations Education, Science, and Cultural Organization. Dad is part of the office that oversees the Cities of Literature. Let's go see his office. He said he'd meet us out here..."

"There he is! Okay, Blaine, this is not at all what I expected. Let's go."

Kurt pushed the wheelchair towards Linden Anderson across the parking lot.

* * *

The tour of the building had Kurt staring with open-mouthed wonder as Linden explained what he did and how it all worked. The headquarters of the division Linden worked in were in Paris – which is why Blaine was in Paris earlier in the year when he was in his accident.

Kurt was a bit jealous that Blaine was able to go around the world to meet up with his father, but after giving it a lot of thought he realized he would rather be Burt's son and see him every day.

"I'm going to have to be back in Reykjavik by the end of the week, Blaine. I'm sorry. I wish I could stay longer, but I didn't have much time and at least I came when you had the surgery," Linden tried to make his son understand.

"Are you going to stop in Ohio to see Mother before you jet off to Iceland?" Blaine asked.

"Not this time. I have meetings with the people there to get this project going. Reykjavik will be the next City of Literature and I have deadlines. I love you, Blainers and I promise I will be home in Ohio for Thanksgiving. I promise you an entire six weeks. I have scheduled from the Wednesday before Thanksgiving to the day after New Year's. Okay?" Linden hugged Blaine.

"Yes, Dad, I do understand. I don't like it much, but I understand. The vacation this winter sounds great," Blaine said, hugging his father back.

"I will see the two of you tonight for supper," he grinned.

"We'll see you tonight, Linden," Kurt said as a goodbye and wheeled Blaine down the hall and outside to find the town car.

* * *

"That has to be rough," Kurt said when Blaine was quiet most of the way home.

"You mean with him away so much?" Blaine asked.

"Yes. I see my dad every night at the supper table," Kurt said.

"I wish I did. When we're together it's great – but being away from him is hard. I do get to see a lot of places, though," Blaine tried to see the positive in the situation.

"Where have you been?"

"Paris, London, Stockholm, Prague, Milan, Rio de Janeiro, Kenya, Pretoria, Singapore, Hong Kong, Adelaide, and more, but those are the ones I remember," Blaine said with a smile. "When I can't go, Dad brings me home things from the places he's been. You know all those things on the shelves in my room? The sea shells and rocks and instruments? Dad brought me most of those," Blaine explained.

"Wow. I don't know what to say – just wow," Kurt managed, the thoughts running through his head stopped him from being able to think of any comments. It was truly mind-boggling.

"So, did you see any fashion shows when you were in Milan?"

"No. I wish I did, but no," Blaine replied, his lips pouting.

Kurt took advantage of the pout and leaned close, kissing Blaine's soft lips. Blaine startled but recovered quickly and kissed Kurt back. He was getting quite used to having Kurt kissing him and he liked it.

* * *

The boys ate a late afternoon lunch in Central Park. Blaine was able to stand for a minute on his bad leg before it got too sore and Kurt congratulated him on his perseverance.

"Keep that up and you'll be walking again in no time," Kurt encouraged. "Are you seeing anything yet?"

"No."

Blaine had actually been able to see little flickers of light from time to time, but they weren't what he considered 'seeing'.

* * *

" _Wouldn't It Be Lovely"_ is from the 1956 Broadway musical **My Fair Lady** by Alan Jay Lerner & Frederick Loewe.


	9. Origin of Love

**My Reader – Chapter Nine – Origin of Love**

Blaine woke up when the sun hit his face and made him blink, then shudder. It hurt. It annoyed him at first, then he realized the reason it hurt was that he could see! Just a tiny bit, but it was happening.

"Macushla, stop," he said, pushing the dog down off the bed to stop the hound from licking his face.

He shut his eyes and took stock of what was around him. He could hear someone in the kitchen, probably Kurt because the maids only came on Tuesdays and Fridays. Today was Wednesday.

Cush was whining under his breath. Blaine smelled the delicious aroma of bacon coming from the kitchen. He could feel his dog's wiry coat as he pressed himself as close to the bed as possible.

If the sun hurt his eyes, maybe he could see? It was the only thought in his brain.

Blaine opened his eyes and looked around the room. He could detect something moving – Macushla – and maybe something yellow on the desk by the window? He could tell it was the window because it was lighter there. He could see that it was a square of light.

"Kurt?"

A few minutes later he heard someone enter the room.

"Good morning, Blaine," Kurt said, coming in the room and setting a glass down on the nightstand.

"I can't smell what's in the glass..."

"Orange juice. I can get you some grape or apple juice if you'd rather?" Kurt offered.

"Ah, no. I like the orange for now," Blaine said, reaching for it but feeling Kurt set it in his hand.

"Better?"

"Yeah. Can you help me get ready for the morning?" Blaine asked.

* * *

After breakfast, Kurt helped Blaine with his exercises but could tell something was off. Blaine kept stopping and seemed distracted.

"Hey, what's wrong? You seem a million miles away," Kurt noticed.

"Oh, sorry. I guess I must be tired or something," Blaine excused himself.

"You don't need to be sorry – I just wondered what's wrong?"

"Nothing. Nothing..."

Blaine refocused and they kept on with the therapy. Blaine was making great progress both with his leg and with his arm. He could walk eight or ten steps and lift five pounds with his arm.

"Let's call it done for today, okay? You might just need some sleep I think," Kurt said. He came over to where Blaine was sitting on a chair and helped him into the wheelchair. "It won't be too long before you'll be out of this thing, you think?"

"I sure hope so," Blaine said. He could see more and more as the day went on, but he was afraid that as soon as his sight was back that his mother wouldn't employ Kurt anymore and he'd never see him again.

Blaine was a bright, fun and popular guy at Dalton, but it was sort of a front. He liked everyone, but there had never been one special person for him. Having Kurt read to him was nice but he'd grown to care about Kurt. A lot. He couldn't imagine being without him, and if his sight never came back, he would have Kurt for longer.

Going down the hallway he was able to see the doorways as the light coming through the windows lit up each room.

"Here we are," Kurt said in a cheerful voice.

They came into his room and Kurt helped him into bed. Most of the staff was off today and the home visit nurse wasn't due to be there until Friday, two days from now. They were alone.

"Come take a nap with me?" Blaine asked, keeping his voice light so Kurt could refuse if he wanted. Blaine could hear him contemplating what to do.

"Sure, Blaine. I could use a nap," Kurt said, taking off his shoes and sitting on the side of the bed when Blaine patted it.

He got under the covers and snuggled into Blaine's side. Blaine leaned over and kissed him. It was just on the cheek, but he wished he had the courage to kiss his lips. The few times they'd done that stood out in Blaine's mind. He worried about waking up with an erection and upsetting Kurt, so he turned his back and settled down on the pillow.

"Can you...can you cuddle against me? I kind of feel a need to be touched. If you don't mind?" Blaine asked, afraid Kurt would refuse or think of an excuse.

"Okay. Are you sure you're all right?" Kurt asked, moving nearer to Blaine and pulling him close.

"Much better now, thank you," Blaine muttered, fast on his way to sleep. He smiled and scooted closer before falling completely asleep.

Blaine woke up a few hours later, feeling much refreshed from the long nap. He'd been trying to keep up with Cooper and his dad for the short time they'd been there and he wasn't up to it. Then he tried to stay awake all day to show Kurt he was getting better, but in actuality he needed healing sleep.

He was lying on his stomach, but Kurt was still by his side, arm wrapped around his waist. It was good to feel the warmth of another body next to him. Kurt was deep asleep, not moving as Blaine struggled to turn over and sit up. He had to use the restroom but didn't want to bother Kurt.

Blaine scooted to the bottom of the bed and felt his way to the wheelchair, sliding so his butt was in the seat. Hey, he didn't think he could do that so easily – the physical therapy was paying off. He wheeled himself to the bathroom, took care of business successfully and got back to his room. His vision was even better than this morning – he could distinguish shapes in the dim room. He could tell where the bed was, the desk and dresser. The yellow by the window was a vase of daffodils.

"Blaine?"

"I'm here," he replied to Kurt.

"Where? Oh...are one of the maids here? How did you get in your chair? Why didn't you wake me up?"

"Nope, nobody's here but us. I got myself into the chair!" he said with a confidence he didn't feel.

"You did? Well, of course you did. I'm sorry I didn't wake up. I didn't sleep very well last night. I guess I was more tired than I thought," Kurt said, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

"No problem. The PT has really helped with my movements. I was able to get into the chair myself, but I'm not so sure I can get back out so easily. Do you want to go into the lounge and watch a movie or something?"

"Sure, if I get to pick the movie," Kurt sassed. He grinned at Blaine and jumped out of bed, taking the handles on the wheelchair and dashing into the lounge. With a bit of help from Kurt, Blaine was soon on the large leather sofa, leaning back on the mountain of pillows. Kurt took a seat beside him.

"I think it's my turn to pick, but I'll let you go first today," Blaine offered.

"Well, thank you. Let's see...a musical or a drama?" he said to himself, going over the selection on the menu. Blaine had hundreds of movies.

"Do you want a flashy romance from the 1940s? Or a spy thriller from last year? Maybe a contemporary love story?"

"You choose."

"Oh, here...Brokeback Mountain. I saw this with my dad," Kurt smiled at the memory of Burt sitting beside him in the theater with his hands over his eyes, asking Kurt if the kissing was done.

"Your dad went to see this with you? In a public theater?" Blaine asked, his face showing his shock.

"Sure, why not? We saw Priscilla, Queen of the Desert together, then I went with him to see all of the Jason Bourne movies."

"Yeah, but...well, I just cannot see my dad going to that extreme. We've never been on the same page about my sexuality. I mean...he loves me and all, but its not as if he would go see Brokeback with me."

Kurt was at a loss for words. Linden Anderson seemed like such a great guy, hugging his son, flying across the world to be there for his surgery. It didn't make sense.

"You're so quiet, Kurt. Are you shocked? Welcome to my life. So many things don't make sense. Yes, he loves me - I have never once doubted that – but he doesn't really _understand_ me. He has chosen to just pretend he doesn't know I'm gay. He never mentions the word 'gay' out loud, so I just...live with it, I guess?" Blaine confesses.

"I'm sorry, Blaine," Kurt said and leaned closer to put his arms around his friend. He kissed him on the forehead. Blaine snuggled closer and hit the button on the remote.

Half an hour later, both boys are watching - or listening - to the movie. Neither knows what to say as Ennis and Jack are falling in love.

"What's going on?" Blaine asks, not sure which part of the movie is on. He still can't see well enough to distinguish what's on the screen and at the best scenes there is little conversation.

"It's the part where Ennis is with his wife and he hasn't seen Jack in a really long time – and he pulls Jack under the staircase to kiss him," Kurt says, pushing down on his crotch to alleviate some of the pressure building up there.

"Oh, I loved that scene, but I couldn't help but feel for his wife. How terribly sad for all of them, you know?" Blaine says, moving closer to Kurt and cuddling under his arm to melt into his side. Kurt puts his arm over Blaine's shoulders and pulls him closer.

"Yeah, I got that. So sad. Why don't people..." he drifts off, not knowing what to say in the huge scope of it all.

Blaine sneaks a look over at Kurt to see if his eyes are working yet. He can see a little bit more than shapes now, but not much. Maybe tomorrow.

The boys sat together for a while, Kurt whispering details of what was on screen as the movie played, until Blaine's cell rang.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Killer, how are you doing?"

"Oh! Sebastian! I'm doing well. How are you? How are your injuries?"

"Well, that's why I called you. Your mother told my mother that the eye surgery went well," Seb said.

"Yeah, but I still can't see. We're waiting for it to resolve. I'm out of the casts on both arm and leg, going to physical therapy. It's going well."

"I hear you're in the New York apartment?"

"Yeah, the surgeon is here in New York. I have a friend staying with me. Dad and Cooper were here for the operation, though. I can't fly, so I'm here until the doc gives me the green light to go home."

"Cool. Well, see you soon." Sebastian said and the line went dead.

"That was strange. I guess the overseas connection wasn't very strong. Let's get back..." Blaine was interrupted by the doorbell.

"I'll get it," Kurt said, carefully standing so as not to jostle Blaine. He walked down the hallway and opened the door to find a tall, skinny boy on crutches standing there.

"Wow. Look at what Blaine scored. A long drink of water this time – he must have missed me," the boy said, pushing his way into the apartment and down the hall.

"Ah...wait! Who are you?" Kurt called, but a moment later realized that this must be Sebastian, Blaine's childhood friend. He followed him down the hall to the lounge to find he was sitting next to Blaine, arms around him.

"Blainers, I missed you! How are you really? You've lost weight, are they treating you right?" Seb said softly, kissing Blaine's cheek.

"I'm fine. It's harder to eat when you can't find your mouth, though," he kidded, play-punching his friend in the shoulder. "So, how are you up and about? No wheelchair? How are you in New York? Did the Miracle Baths of Lourdes work?"

"Hey, hey, now. Calm down. Yeah, they worked. Or at least my parents thought they did, I'm using crutches but I'm so much better. You remember I only got cracked bones, not fully broken ones like you. I am so sorry, Blaine. Truly I am. Can you ever forgive me?"

"I forgave you the minute it happened! You know that. I know it was an accident. It could have gone the other way, it was just chance that I was the one hit. Now, enough of that talk, let's talk about something – anything – else," Blaine said, frowning. Sebastian hugged him again and Kurt turned to go into the kitchen to get some tea for them all. He couldn't stand there like a third wheel and watch Blaine get pawed by the new boy.

"Kurt?" Blaine called out, suddenly wondering where his friend had gone.

"I'm in the kitchen," Kurt replied, setting the cups on the tray he was bringing.

"Come back in here. Did you meet Sebastian?"

"I answered the door, Blaine."

"Come sit with us," Blaine whined. He was embarrassed that he'd forgotten Kurt for the last ten minutes.

"Tea anyone?" Kurt asked as he set the heavy tray down on the coffee table. "I brought jasmine tea with those almond cookies you like, Blaine." Kurt set up the cups and poured for all three of them, handing the cups around, then asking Blaine which cookies he'd like.

"I can smell the chocolate and two almond?"

"Of course," Kurt said, smiling at Blaine.

Sebastian helped himself to a few to go with his tea.

"Thank you, Kurt," Seb said politely. "Are you Blaine's friend from New York?"

"No, we know each other from Ohio. I came with him to lend support for his surgery," Kurt said.

Kurt and Sebastian sat staring at each other and all of their unfriendly vibes could be felt. Even Blaine could feel something was wrong, but he had no clue what it was.

Kurt gathered the tea things to take them into the kitchen just as Sebastian excused himself to the restroom. As Kurt was setting the cups and saucers in the dishwasher, Seb came into the kitchen.

"What's your deal with Blaine? Are you the one horning in just because he's vulnerable?" Seb said in a menacing tone.

"Are you the one simpering up to him after you shoved him under a speeding van?" Kurt countered without thinking after his surprise at Seb's tone.

Seb's eyes got huge and he backed up a step, turning on his crutches to leave the room.

Kurt was instantly guilty, ashamed of himself for lashing out at the injured boy.

"Wait, Sebastain, I'm sorry," he said in a low voice, not wanting Blaine to hear him. But it was too late. Sebastain was taking his leave and by the time Kurt caught up, Sebastian was by the door.

"I'm sorry, Sebastian. I spoke without thought. Please forgive me."

"If only I had the time. I'm off to the airport, on my way back home to Westerville. I only stopped by to see Blaine because I was in town and his mother asked me to check on him," Sebastian lied. Margaret Anderson had seen through Sebastian since he was a small child and only tolerated him because of her son's friendship with him.

"I might see you at Blaine's house once we get back than," Kurt said politely.

"We'll see..." and Sebastian was gone.

"So, that was the famous Sebastian," Kurt said, sitting down in the chair he'd been seated in while they had company.

"In the flesh. I didn't expect him. It sounded as if he's doing okay...did he look it?" Blaine asked.

"I didn't see him before so it is hard for me to judge, but he appeared healthy. He wasn't having any problems with his crutches," Kurt observed.

"He had crutches?"

"Yes. His face didn't indicate he was in pain or anything," Kurt reported.

"That's good. He was on his way home and had a layover here, so he called my mother to see if I was here," Blaine explained. He couldn't figure out why he felt he needed to explain all of this to Kurt. Seb was his friend, after all. He took a glance at Kurt to see if there was some kind of problem, but he couldn't see details. All he could see was a shape that was Kurt, sitting across the room from him.

"Kurt? Can you come back over and we can finish the movie?" Blaine asked. He was shy about it now, his knees trembling just a bit.

"That movie is so sad. I don't think it was a good pick. Why don't you pick something else?" Kurt suggested.

"Oh. Well, maybe a scary movie? From the 1940s? I have Frankenstein or Wolfman?"

"...Meet Abbott and Costello?" Kurt laughed.

"No! Lon Cheney? Or Dracula with Bela Lugosi?"

"That sounds delightful. I'll set it up," Kurt said, selecting the menu on the television. He quickly found Dracula and turned it on.

"And come sit with me?" he asked, patting the sofa cushion where Kurt had sat earlier with him.

"Are you sure? Sebastian might come back and want to watch movies with you," Kurt snapped.

Blaine's eyebrows went up as he looked in Kurt's direction.

"What?"

Kurt had the decency to blush.

"I'm sorry, Blaine. I didn't mean that. I guess I'm just an idiot. I think I better go read a book or something, leave you alone."

"But...why? Did I do something to anger you, Kurt?"

"No. Its just...never mind. We can watch Dracula, I'll sit by you."

Blaine felt Kurt sit beside him, a large space in between them. What the hell? It had gone from being snuggle-buddies this morning to being practically strangers this afternoon. Not good.

They watched Dracula, laughing at the serious parts. As Kurt relaxed, he got sleepy and when the movie was done, Kurt was fast asleep on Blaine's shoulder. He leaned over and kissed Kurt's cheek, touching his face gently.

"I think I'm in love," he whispered to himself.

* * *

" _Origin of Love"_ is from the Off-Broadway [1998]/West End [2000]/Broadway [2014] musical **Hedwig and the Angry Inch** by Stephen Trask and John Cameron Mitchell..but you already knew that, didn't you?


	10. Almost Like Being In Love

My Reader - Chapter Ten – Almost Like Being in Love

Kurt woke up with the sun in his face. His first thought was that he forgot to close the drapes the night before, but then he remembered that he'd come in to Blaine during the night. He just could not leave Blaine alone with his nightmares, and besides – he found that he really liked snuggling close to Blaine's warm body.

Blaine was still asleep so Kurt got up and stumbled to the bathroom to take a shower and do his morning skin regimen.

"Kurt?"

"In here. I'm just washing my face, I'll be out in a moment..." Kurt said, patting his skin dry with the soft Egyptian cotton towel. He thought for a moment that he needed to guard against letting these luxuries become habit. He was going to go home to regular terrycloth towels and bar soap bought at the grocery store, not hand-milled French soap. He hung up the soft towel and went back into Blaine's room.

"Good morning! Sorry I was so clingy last night. I was just thinking of my dad leaving for Iceland at the end of the week. I miss him already," Blaine quietly said, maybe not wanting Kurt to hear him.

"Don't worry about it. We're friends, right? That's what friends are for," Kurt assured him, coming over to sit on the bed next to Blaine. He reached down to pull on his socks.

"Friendship's usually a bit more even – more equal, you know?," Blaine pondered. He was usually the one supporting his friends, not the other way around, and it made him uncomfortable. "I don't seem to be doing anything for you."

"Are you kidding?" Kurt asked, flabbergasted. "You brought me to New York! My dream city! Blaine, I don't think being friends means keeping score. I'm happy the way things are, okay?"

Blaine nodded.

"How about breakfast?" Kurt changed the subject. When Blaine agreed, he helped him get dressed and into the wheelchair. On the way to the kitchen, Kurt asked, "How are your eyes today? Can you see anything?"

"I'm sure it's coming. I feel sensitive to light a bit," he disclosed but didn't tell Kurt he could see colors and vague shapes. He was still so insecure about losing Kurt he didn't want to talk about his returning sight.

"How about a walk in the park?" Blaine asked, anxious to do something other than sit around the apartment after his physical therapy.

"Sounds wonderful. Do you want me to put a leash on Macushla and bring him with us?" Kurt asked. He'd grown very fond of the big shaggy wolfhound.

"Yes, that would be perfect. Maybe you could take him for a run while I sit and enjoy the breeze. He misses being able to run in the fields I think," Blaine said, guilt over not having access to a place for the dog to run threatening to overwhelm him.

They walked over to Central Park, the big wolfhound pulling a little on the leash Blaine was holding.

"Hey, Cush, you're going to pull me out of this chair. Settle down," Blaine commanded, holding tightly to the end of the leash.

Kurt was surprised when the dog did settle down and walked patiently beside his master as they followed a path through the trees.

After a while, Kurt found a shady place under some oak trees and made sure Blaine was comfortable, had his phone, and was okay with waiting for Kurt to take Cush for a run.

The dog was anxious to get going and Kurt let the leash out as he started across the clear, grassy meadow.

An hour later, Blaine was still sitting under the tree, but the shade had shifted and now he was in the hot sun. It was a pretty warm day and Blaine couldn't see Kurt and Macushla anywhere. He pushed himself up to get adjusted and scanned all the way around himself. The park was so beautiful, all the flowers in bloom and people walking everywhere. It was getting late, almost 4 o'clock. He was overheated, bored, and getting really hungry.

Blaine heard the clumsy feet and panting breath of the huge wolfhound. Macushla jumped up, laying his huge feet on Blaine's shoulders.

"Cush! Did you have a good run, Baby? Was this better?" Blaine asked, thinking of the two days they had merely walked the dog along the sidewalk for him to relieve himself. Cush was used to running in the fields and orchard behind the mansion in Ohio, not being cooped up in an apartment in Manhattan.

"I need to go home soon," Blaine said, thinking of the dog mostly.

"Oh, okay. I didn't know how long we would be here. I can say with complete honesty that I love New York," Kurt gushed, looking around at the lush grass and beds of flowers planted everywhere.

"Are you homesick?" Blaine asked because he had heard the longing in his friend's voice when he spoke of his father.

"If I'm honest – yes, I miss my dad. Don't get me wrong, Blaine. I love it here, I love being with you, and I am happy to stay as long as you need me. Okay?" Kurt said, wanting to take the sadness from Blaine's eyes.

"Thank you for that, Kurt. I don't know what I'd do without you," he whispered, gazing up at Kurt, then turning his head so Kurt wouldn't know he could see him. His sight had gotten a lot sharper since they'd gone to bed last night.

"Speaking of going home, we could head that way. I'm kind of hungry and we could stop at a food truck on he way," Blaine offered.

"We can go – but I _am_ capable of cooking, my friend, and I don't think we should eat every meal at a food truck, it just isn't healthy," Kurt disagreed. He grinned to himself at the frown on Blaine's face.

They walked back across the park, Blaine in the wheelchair and Macushla trying to lope ahead but the leash stopped him from going too far. He heaved a sigh and came back to pace beside the wheelchair.

"Oh, that smells so good! Please, Kurt, can we stop at the cart with Mexican food? I promise to get something that's good for me," Blaine begged.

"Okay," Kurt agreed, the wonderful smells coming from the window on the food truck were enticing.

Several bags of food and the exchange of some bills later, the boys were home. The wolfhound went to lie down and Kurt set plates and forks on the table, getting out a container of sour cream and two glasses of iced tea to put on the table. Kurt put the food out in a tasteful arrangement and helped Blaine fill his plate with each of the delicacies.

"Oh, this is delicious!" Kurt praised, eating an enchilada. "It isn't too hot, just as you promised," he added.

"See, I told you. It's great," Blaine said before biting into another fish taco. He hummed his satisfaction and smiled. Yes, he was a food truck junkie.

Kurt was trying to swallow and took a drink of his iced tea, his eyes watering and his cheeks red. He quickly got up and went to the refrigerator, poured a big glass of milk and gulped it down.

"Kurt?"

"Oh, sorry – I took a bite of that shrimp quesadilla and it was a lot hotter than I thought it would be. Wow, those must be some kind of Scotch bonnets or ghost peppers, maybe. Whew!"

"Oh, I'm so sorry. Are you okay?" Blaine asked, reaching over and took a bite of the quesadilla himself. He rolled his eyes and swallowed finding it wasn't that hot at all. Kurt sure was sensitive.

"Yeah, I got a glass of milk. The iced tea made it burn more," Kurt said, sitting back down at the table.

"Good idea. Does your mouth still burn?"

Kurt shook his head then realized Blaine couldn't see him.

"No, it's okay now."

Blaine leaned closer to Kurt.

"Let me see..." he whispered, then leaned even closer and touched his lips to Kurt's. If Kurt was surprised he didn't show it, he moved forward on his chair and put his arms around Blaine, kissing him again, increasing pressure a bit until Blaine opened his mouth a little. Kurt moved his tongue to touch across Blaine's bottom lip and slowly enter his mouth. Blaine's heart started beating faster and his arms went around Kurt too.

They kissed for a while, forgetting their supper and letting it get cold.

"Kurt, oh...you are...I mean, I am..." Blaine stuttered.

"Blaine?"

They kissed again before both of them stopped and looked at the cold food on the table.

"Do you want me to reheat this?" Kurt offered.

"No, I'm not hungry – at least not for food," Blaine said, a sweet smile gracing his face.

"Okay, I'll put it away and clean up," Kurt said, collecting the food and putting it into containers then into the refrigerator. He put the dishes in the sink and washed them quickly, putting everything away.

"I'm tired, is it okay if you help me to bed, Kurt?" Blaine asked, looking anything but tired.

"Sure."

Kurt didn't bother with the wheelchair. He just picked Blaine up and carried him down the hall to his bedroom. He went in his own room to put on pajamas while Blaine was in the bathroom, then helped him into his pajamas and into bed.

"How about we watch a movie?" Blaine asked.

"Sure. Is your dad going to be here soon?" Kurt wondered.

Blaine called Linden to see while Kurt went to the kitchen and made two more glasses of iced tea. He came back to the bedroom to find Blaine in his bed, curled up in a ball and crying.

"Blaine! What's wrong? Are you hurting?"

"Not physically. No, my dad...well, he ….oh," Blaine stuttered. Kurt stood by the bed as his friend fell apart with extreme emotion. He sat on the bed, pulling Blaine into his lap and waited until the boy gathered his thoughts.

"Oh, Kurt! My dad already left. He said he left a voicemail on the house phone. He had some business to take care of and then he was off to Iceland. I guess he didn't want to waste time saying goodbye to me," Blaine said sadly.

"Oh, honey, I know he would if he could. He loves you – I could see it in his eyes when he looked at you," Kurt tried to soothe his friend but Blaine just sighed and snuggled in closer.

They stayed that way for almost an hour until Blaine seemed to be asleep.

"Hey, Blaine, do you want to lie down and go back to sleep?" Kurt asked, his voice a loud whisper.

"Yeah, but I don't want to be alone. Can you stay with me?" Blaine asked.

"Sure. We can snuggle together and I'll hold you for as long as you need me. I promise."

"You're my best friend in the world, Kurt. I'm so lucky to have you," Blaine sighed as he cuddled close and closed his eyes.

Kurt held him close, kissing the top of his head. He glanced down to the tender skin by his ear. Blaine had cute ears, Kurt smiled to himself. He noticed them the first day he read to him, thinking he wanted to kiss him there. Well, nothing ventured nothing gained – he leaned forward and kissed Blaine gently on the skin between his neck and his ear.

Kurt smiled and yawned then settled down on the pillow, careful not to let go of Blaine as he held him close in his arms.

 _I think I'm falling in love with him,_ Kurt thought as he fell asleep.

* * *

Another day dawned in the Dakota, Kurt and Blaine tangled together under the blankets.

"Kurt?"

"I'm here, are you okay?"

"Yeah. Can you help me into the wheelchair? I need to use the bathroom," Blaine whined, still half asleep.

"Put your arms around my neck," Kurt instructed. He got his friend into the chair and helped him into the bathroom.

When he got back, Kurt was getting his clothes on. He stripped down and was stepping into his purple boxers when he turned to see Blaine staring at him. Once he realized Kurt was looking back at him he blushed and turned his face to the wall.

"Blaine, you can see me, can't you?" Kurt asked, although he was torn about what he wanted Blaine to answer. He would be thrilled if Blaine's sight returned - but if it returned, would he be sent home because Blaine no longer needed him?

"Ah...yes. Sorry, I didn't mean to stare at you. I can't see clearly, it's mostly shapes and colors and only if there's lots of light. I saw the bright purple of your shorts," Blaine explained, slowly turning back and seeing that Kurt was dressed. He looked again, seeing that Kurt was wearing dark blue shorts and a pinkish-white shirt. He was so handsome Blaine had to catch his breath. He'd wondered for so long what Kurt looked like and here he was standing right in front of him.

Kurt's face was similar to what Blaine imagined when he used his fingers to 'see' Kurt.

He had fine features but he was very masculine in spite of it. Kurt was no twink. Blaine had felt Kurt's muscles and knew under this shirt were solid abs and biceps. He had a head full of thick chestnut hair, combed high over his head in a perfect quiff.

"Kurt, you're so beautiful..." Blaine breathed in.

"I thought the doctor said your vision would come back a little at a time. How long?...ah, how long have you been able to see?" Kurt asked, studying Blaine's face.

"A week. He was right, I saw just light at first, then a few days later it was just shapes and finally yesterday it was color. My vision is still really blurry but I can see your face, Kurt. It's everything I knew it would be. You are beautiful," Blaine blurted out.

"Why didn't you tell me you were seeing things?" Kurt demanded, a frown decorating his face. It was as if Blaine had lied to him and that thought upset him even more than having Sebastian flirting and bragging about their friendship. Kurt sat down and leaned his chin in his hands.

Blaine frowned, worried he had made Kurt unhappy.

"I was scared. Please understand - I thought if you knew I could see that you would go home. I didn't want to lose you," Blaine confessed, blinking to stop tears from forming.

"Oh, Blaine, I'm not leaving you! I promised that I would stay as long as you need me," Kurt said, coming close and putting his arms loosely around Blaine. He leaned close and kissed his mouth very softly.

"I'm so happy about that. I don't want you to ever leave my side, we're best friends – right?" Blaine asked, his sadness plain on his face.

"Yes, Blaine, we're the very best of friends. I promise we'll be together here in New York and even when we get back to Ohio. You'll always have a place in my heart," Kurt said, his eyes sincere as he looked into Blaine's.

"Thank you, I feel the same about you, Kurt."

Blaine kissed Kurt this time, placing his hands gently around his back. Blaine pulled Kurt flush against his chest and he kissed him again and again.

* * *

"Kurt! Wait up!" Blaine shouted.

Kurt ran as fast as he could after the wolfhound, calling the big dog back to him. The dog had slipped out of his collar while they were walking along the path in Central Park.

"Cush! Here Cush! Macushla! C'mon baby – come home."

The boys had now spent a month in New York and Kurt could tell his dad was missing him. He'd spoken to Burt every other day for the whole time, gushing about all the places they'd seen or visited. Kurt had sent home postcards and souvenirs from just about every place they'd visited from the United Nations building to the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

Blaine was now walking, though he couldn't yet run. Macushla was taking full advantage of his freedom and was over one of the gently rolling hills and gone before Kurt could catch up. He came back to Blaine, his feet dragging and his face a picture of misery.

"He'll come back – I know he will," Blaine said, his hand on Kurt's arm as they sat down on a bench.

"I thought I was catching up to him, but then he just took off like the wind," Kurt said, astonished the dog could run so fast.

"He must have seen something. Irish wolfhounds are sighthounds and if they see something they think is prey, their brain focuses on just that one thing. I think he'll come around and realize he needs to come home," Blaine said. Instead of reassuring Kurt as he meant to do, his friend's face took on a horrific aspect.

"Oh, no! Blaine! I read Lassie Come Home. What if Macushla decides to go home – to Ohio?"

"He wouldn't do that. Would he?" Blaine asked, his voice trembling. The thought of his beloved dog trying to get home to Ohio with all the traffic and dangers he might face brought tears to his eyes.

"Can you take me back to the apartment, Kurt?" he asked, his look of despondency clear on every line of his face.

"Sure, Bee. I'll take you back," Kurt responded, his own face almost as sad. He was calculating in his head how he could take Blaine home, then return to the park and ask people if they'd seen the dog. He might be able to track him that way – a big dog like that would be noticed.

As they rounded the corner to the doors of the Dakota, a small woman was standing there with Macushla. She was holding a rope tied around his neck, her fists on her hips and tapping her toe impatiently.

She didn't say a word, just handed the rope to Blaine and turned on her heel to leave.

"Wait! Rosie, where did you find him?" Blaine asked as the woman gave him a stern look.

"I sat down for half a minute and turned to see your great monster with his head inside one of the compartments of my cart! Lucky for me it was empty," she said.

"Wait – who's watching your cart now?" Kurt asked.

"My dad came by to bring me some more lobsters. He's waiting for me to come back," Rosie explained.

"Rosie, I'm so sorry! He slipped his collar and took off. We've been looking for him."

"Well, then I'm glad I found him," Rosie said and pulled Blaine into a hug before kissing him on the mouth.

Kurt gasped, but tried to hide it.

"Oh, honey, are you jealous?" she asked before kissing Kurt full on the mouth, taking him once more by surprise. "Tell your brother I miss him."

"I will, and thank you again," Blaine said, opening the door to go up to the apartment.

* * *

"Good news, Blaine," his doctor said, a smile on his face. "You are cleared to fly once again."

"Really?" Blaine hugged the man, who grinned. It wasn't every day he could make one of his patients this happy.

"Yes, really. The pressure in your eye is normal once again, so there are no risks for you to fly. You'll be going home to Ohio I presume?"

"Yes!"

"Okay, I'll forward your file to your doctor there. Congratulations, young man."

"Thank you."

* * *

"Almost Like Being in Love" is from the 1947 Broadway musical **Brigadoon** by Alan Jay Lerner & Frederick Loewe.


	11. June Is Bustin' Out All Over

**My Reader – Chapter Eleven – June Is Bustin' Out All Over**

Blaine hung up the phone, his face a picture of happiness. He had everything all set for Friday, hoping his plans would be a good surprise for Kurt. His friendship with Kurt had turned into something Blaine hadn't experienced before. Sure, he was friends with Jeff, Nick, Wes, and the other Warblers – and then there was Sebastian.

Sebastian had been Blaine's friend since they were toddlers and their mothers had taken them to play dates together. They played in the orchard between their houses, rode horses and bikes together, learned and sang and traveled to France together. Yes, Sebbie was a good friend – but he was always wanting to go too far. He was the first person to kiss Blaine when they were eleven years old and playing hide-and-seek in the orchard. Seb pulled Blaine behind the big oak tree at the edge of the orchard and kissed him on the lips without asking first. It was that incident that made Blaine finally give conscious thought to if he liked boys or not.

The thought of whether or not Sebastian was his boyfriend had bothered Blaine for a long time. He made out with Sebbie a lot back then, but somehow Blaine always knew that nothing would come of it. He just didn't think of Sebastian that way and as his friend got more amorous and finally more demanding, Blaine had to call a halt to it all. He sat Sebastian down and had a long talk with him about being inappropriate and about the fact that Blaine did not love him that way.

It was hard on both of them – Sebastian's feelings were hurt and Blaine just wanted his boyhood pal back – but in the end they made up and were friends now. Sometimes Sebbie would tease Blaine by making suggestive remarks but Blaine laughed and they remained pals.

Blaine didn't think that way about Kurt.

At first, Blaine had resented having someone in to read for him. He was still upset about not being able to stand, move his arm, or see. His vacation in France with his beloved dad had come to an abrupt halt and he was whisked back home to sit in his room in Ohio. Hiring a reader was the last straw on his overwrought pile of anxiety. He was short-tempered and downright rude to Kurt.

Kurt was never anything but kind to Blaine, no matter what the boy threw at him. He showed up day after day in spite of Blaine's rudeness. He read with enthusiasm and he was kind and gentle with Blaine, knowing that the boy's hurt was not his fault. Blaine grew to respect Kurt, appreciating his intelligence and his kindness.

The day Kurt typed for him and helped him into bed was the turning point. When Kurt hugged him and then kissed his forehead – that was the moment. Blaine realized that he was falling in love with Kurt.

When he found out that he would be going to New York for the surgery, and that his mother couldn't come with him, he panicked. He asked his mother to change her mind, but she didn't. She told him that Cooper would be there with him. Blaine loved his brother, but he knew Coop was not exactly the best person to sit still for hours. So he begged his mother to ask Kurt to come. When Kurt disappeared, not coming to read to him as scheduled with no explanation (Blaine had misplaced his phone), he was distraught. He was ready to cancel the whole thing - then Kurt walked through his door. He had never felt such relief.

These weeks in New York had been the best of Blaine's life. Kurt was there for him every day, in every way and when Blaine finally screwed up enough courage to kiss him, Kurt responded. Blaine was definitely in love. He had to do something to show Kurt how much he was appreciated. So he planned a weekend get-away before they went back to Ohio.

Kurt was gonna love this.

* * *

"Where are we going? And why did I need to pack?" Kurt asked. Charles, the driver, smirked into his beard. He knew where they were going, Blaine had rented him a room for the weekend, too.

"So many questions! Let's just watch out the window at the scenery," Blaine answered.

Kurt looked out of the window at all the houses going by until they reached the ferry.

"Oh, my stars! I read about ferries, but I never imagined myself on one. This is amazing, Blaine. Thank you," Kurt gushed, so excited at the experience. They parked the car and got out to stand along the railing.

"Oh, you ain't seen nothin' yet," Charles laughed as they stood looking out over the water. Kurt looked over at him and Charles winked. Blaine gave him a frown, worried his driver might ruin the surprise but Charles smiled at his boss and walked down the railing to speak with some people he saw.

"I love the ferry – when will we see the Statue of Liberty?" Kurt asked.

Blaine laughed softly and put his hand on Kurt's where he was holding the rail.

"I'm sorry, but this isn't _that_ ferry. This ferry is taking us to Long Island. We can go see the Statue of Liberty later in the week, maybe?" Blaine asked.

"Oh. Okay. Well, I've never seen Long Island, so I know it will be fun," Kurt replied, unable to keep a bit of disappointment from his voice. He hadn't looked up any tourist attractions in Long Island before he came, only ones in Manhattan.

"We need to get back to the car, we're coming up on the landing now," Charles told the boys as he headed back to the towncar.

They disembarked from the ferry and were rolling along the road, Kurt dozing in the back seat. They were driving around a hill when Charles turned slightly to give Blaine a nod.

"What kind of tree is that?" Blaine asked, bumping Kurt's shoulder, as if by accident.

"Oh, what?" Kurt said, waking up and looking out his window – just as a huge castle came into view.

"Oh! Blaine, look at that! They have a castle – on Long Island!" Kurt blurted, craning his neck to see everything he could.

"Oh, that's neat," Blaine said, acting nonchalant. He was really enjoying Kurt's reaction. He hid a smile and then pretended to ignore Kurt's excitement.

Kurt got more astonished as they drove closer.

"Look! We're going to drive right by it. Oh, look at the formal gardens, Blaine. Can you see them clearly?" Kurt asked, worried that Blaine's sight was fading again.

"Yes, it's wonderful," Blaine said, smiling at Kurt.

Charles stopped the towncar just in front of the castle.

"Blaine? Where are we?" Kurt asked, looking at Blaine like he'd just hung the moon.

"This is Oheka Castle. I thought you might like to spend the weekend here as a thank you for all you've done for me," Blaine said, his eyes looking softly at Kurt.

"You...what?" Kurt looked bewildered.

"I got us a room here for the weekend. Are you okay with that?" Blaine was beginning to wonder if he'd done the right thing.

"You know the people who live in a castle?" Kurt gasped.

"No, it's now a hotel. I'll tell you the history later, but basically a millionaire bought this piece of land here on the Gold Coast in the early 1900s and he built this castle. It was bought and sold many times and fell into ruin. About 25 years ago, a man bought it and it has been revitalized. It is now a hotel."

By the time Blaine explained, Charles had parked and several bellboys was there ready to take their luggage.

Kurt put an arm around Blaine's waist to help him walk. He was getting better day by day, but Kurt wasn't taking any chances. They walked down the long path to the door and Kurt gasped once again as he saw the main room – and the double curved grand staircase.

They walked over to the desk.

"Hello, I have a reservation in an Olmstead Suite and my driver has one in a Gatsby Suite, both under the name of Anderson," Blaine said.

"Very good, sir. Would you like to have refreshments in the bar after checking in?" the concierge asked.

"Yes, that would be fine. Thank you," Blaine said, taking Kurt's hand.

"Are you okay?" Blaine asked again, thinking this was the best idea he'd ever had.

"Yeah...I think so," Kurt answered, looking around at the beautiful furnishings.

After iced tea in the bar, they went up to their room.

"I hope you don't mind that I booked us one room, Kurt. I am still feeling a little fragile and I didn't want to be alone in a strange place," Blaine explained.

"Its fine," Kurt nodded and sat down in a chair at the small table near the picture window.

"Look at this view!" he exclaimed, still in awe of the castle.

"The man who commissioned this castle, Otto Kahn, had the contractor build the hill first. It took two years to haul enough dirt to make this the highest point on Long Island. Then he had them plant the forest and gardens. He meant to impress," Blaine said, smiling at Kurt.

"Amazing. It certainly does impress. Oh! Look! Wow, the ocean is so big," Kurt said, looking over the trees at the water far beyond.

Blaine laughed so hard, he had to hold his stomach.

"What's so funny?" Kurt frowned.

"That's not the Atlantic, Kurt. That's Long Island Sound. We're on the north side of the island, you can't see the Atlantic from here."

Kurt's frown deepened. He didn't like to be made the butt of a joke, it was too much like the bullies from his school.

"Oh, Kurt, don't be upset with me. There's no way you would have known that. Here, let me show you the map," Blaine said and pulled up a map of Long Island on his tablet.

"I guess I got turned around," Kurt said.

"I know you're unfamiliar with New York, I shouldn't have laughed. I'm sorry," Blaine apologized. "To make up for it, we can have lunch in the room. I'll call room service. Let's see...ah, here's the menu. Pick whatever you'd like."

"Room service? Yes, this is Mr. Anderson. We'd like lunch in our room, please.

"We'd like a few appetizers: Mussels and clams, beef carpaccio, and crab cakes. Then classic Caesar salad for two. Thank you."

"Wow, this is a lot of food! What's in this?" Kurt asked.

"Prince Edward Island mussels and littleneck clams in a Thai curry broth. Its a little spicy but good I think," Blaine said, taking a sip of the broth and smiling.

Kurt started on his Caesar salad, wondering if he could make this for his dad.

After lunch, Blaine suggested a walk but Kurt said he was tired.

"Okay, I could use a nap," Blaine agreed and went over to sit on his bed and remove his shoes. Kurt did the same, setting them beside the bed and starting to lie down.

"Hey, Kurt? Maybe you could come over here and we could nap together?" Blaine suggested.

Kurt thought about it for a moment and finally agreed. He walked over, not very comfortable about sharing a bed with Blaine in this lavish palace. He didn't feel as if he belonged here.

Blaine patted the bed and pulled the blanket up to their waists, then laid his head on the pillow and closed his eyes. He wanted to kiss Kurt, but also didn't want to scare him away. He held himself close, turned away from Kurt and closed his eyes to try and sleep.

Kurt laid on the bed, close to but not touching Blaine. He wondered if Blaine had brought him here just to have a relaxing time before they returned to Ohio – or if he was feeling the same way Kurt did. Kurt wanted to kiss Blaine again, but he was scared to. He and Blaine didn't run in the same circles, didn't belong to the same social class. Kurt was definitely working class, but the Anderson's were different. They had generations of money, they had an apartment at _The Dakota_ for goodness sake. Kurt could never hope to live up to that.

Even if he did date Blaine, he would have to spend a year's savings just to have the right clothes to take him to dinner. It would never work. A tear slid down his cheek, he did want Blaine – so badly. He'd fallen in love with him over the months he read to him and then taking care of him during this month in New York. But he had to face facts. The stable donkey didn't run with the thoroughbreds.

Kurt pulled the blanket up to his shoulder and faced away from Blaine. He let a few more tears slide down his cheek before he fell asleep.

* * *

Supper was wonderful. They ate at the hotel restaurant, picking among the glorious food offered there. The sommelier came and refilled their wine glasses. After consulting with Kurt, Blaine ordered from the waiter.

"I think we'll start with Spicy Tuna Tartare for two. My companion will have the Roast Beet Salad and I will have the Arugula and Quinoa Salad. For our entrées, he will have the Porterhouse Lamb Durango and I will have the Pan Roasted Duck. Is it possible that instead of the Brussels sprouts, he can have the sautéed kale?"

"Yes, of course. Will that be all?" the waiter asked.

"Yes. Thank you," Blaine smiled at the man and got a big smile in return.

Kurt knew he was being ridiculous, but he felt a stab of jealousy when the man smiled at Blaine. _He just wants a good tip_ , Kurt told himself and shook his head to clear it of his thoughts.

"That salad you ordered sounds good," Kurt said, trying to start a conversation to get the silly thoughts from returning. "Figs, prosciutto bacon, monchego cheese, pine nuts, and a strawberry vinaigrette. Yummy."

"Oh, you should have ordered it. I'll trade with you if you want," Blaine offered. He really wanted Kurt to have a good time.

"No, mine is roast beets – my favorite vegetable – with bosc pears, pecans, goat cheese, and raspberry vinaigrette. I'm fine, but I wouldn't say no to trading bites?"

"Okay, you can bite me anywhere..." Blaine teased. Kurt had such a shocked look that Blaine immediately apologized. Blaine had been hanging around Sebastian too much.

"It's okay, Blaine. I know you were just kidding," Kurt said, mentally chastising himself for being so sensitive. Obviously Blaine was joking.

The appetizer appeared and Kurt took a bite of the tuna tartare, getting some avocado and crispy noodles along with the sesame-soy-ginger sauce. It was wonderful.

"Good choice, Blaine. This is great," Kurt said.

"Oh, I'm glad. I almost ordered the calamari, but I always order that wherever I eat. I wanted to try something different so I'm glad you are adventurous enough to try raw tuna with me," Blaine smiled at Kurt as he ate another bite.

They ate their salads and drank their wine – a new bottle with each course, of course. Then the waiter brought the entrées in.

"Oh, Blaine, this is amazing. It's the best thing I ever put on a fork, I swear," Kurt enthused. His lamb was perfection and the blackberry cascabella sauce made it even better. He paused after a bite of the sweet potato gratin, smiling at Blaine.

"I think my dad would love this. I'm going to try to make something similar for him. He loves sweet potatoes."

"Invite me over, I love them, too," Blaine grinned.

"It's a date," Kurt countered, smiling at his friend.

After supper, they walked down to the formal gardens. As the walked around the paths, which were in between pools of water and ornately trimmed shrubs, Kurt's arm went around Blaine's waist. It was habit by now and neither boy noticed.

"Look at the stars," Blaine said, gazing up at the twinkling bits of light in the sky.

"You can see them so much better here. I could barely see any in Manhattan," Kurt observed.

They walked around a bit more, finally going up to their room.

"Are you having fun, Kurt?"

"Yes, of course. This is just amazing. I need to get postcards to send to my friends in Lima. Nobody's going to believe I spent a weekend in a castle!" Kurt smiled.

They got their pajamas on and got in bed. As soon as Blaine thought Kurt was asleep, he went around the corner to the desk and sat down with his cell phone.

"Hello, Mother? I'm calling you back."

"Blaine. Why are you in Long Island?"

"Ah...I wanted to have a relaxing weekend before I went back to Ohio?" he said in a guilty voice. "How did you know I was here?"

"The kennel called to ask about Macushla's shot record. Imagine my surprise when they told me his master was on his way to Long Island. Care to explain?"

"I brought Kurt with me, I'm not here alone, Mother."

"Where are you staying?" Dr. Anderson asked, though she had already guessed the answer.

"Oheka."

"Oh. Well, are you staying in our usual suite of rooms?"

"No, I booked an Olmstead room."

"Blaine! That's 1200 dollars a night. Why?"

"Don't worry, Mother. I'm paying for it. I'm not using your account."

"Oh, Blaine..."

"I just wanted...I wanted to show Kurt a good time. He's been there for me, above and beyond. He's my best friend."

"Okay, Blaine. I spoke to your doctor and he's given you clearance to fly, so I booked your tickets for Thursday. Is that okay?"

"Yes, I'll be glad to be home, Mother. I miss you."

"I missed you, too. We're going to have a long talk when you get home."

"Okay, Mother. Love you. G'bye."

"I love you, too, Blaine."

Kurt lay awake in the bed, squirming. He was not comfortable with the conversation the was going on across the room from him. Blaine must think he was asleep, he'd told his mother at dinner that he'd call her back later. Now he knew why. Dr. Anderson wasn't pleased with Blaine taking him to this expensive place. Well, Kurt knew he didn't belong here. He sighed quietly and pretended to be asleep as Blaine got back in bed.

Blaine was doing some thinking himself. He didn't want his mother to be upset with him – and now she knew Kurt was sharing a room with him, he knew he had a lot to answer for when he got home. Whatever made him confess that he'd paid for the extravagance of an Olmstead room? He should have been more on guard. He was pretty sure that she wouldn't forbid Kurt to come over now, but that little bit of unsure thought was disconcerting.

"Kurt?" Blaine whispered.

 _He must be asleep. I'm glad he didn't hear my phone call,_ Blaine thought.

He snuggled close to Kurt's back, giving him a soft kiss on the nape of his neck, then closed his eyes. He wasn't scared when he had Kurt to cuddle against since still had nightmares about the accident sometimes. He closed his eyes and went to sleep.

An hour later, Kurt was still awake. Blaine turned over and Kurt did, too, snuggling against Blaine's back now.

* * *

They woke up early, the sun streaming in the windows. Kurt was feeling good this morning, opening the windows to let in the fresh spring air. It was warm today, a quiet June breeze coming in off the Long Island Sound.

Blaine went to take a shower and Kurt decided to call his father.

"Hello? Kurt?" his dad answered. It was an hour earlier in Ohio, but Kurt knew his dad was up early – even if it was Saturday.

"Hi, Dad. How are you today? Missing me yet?" Kurt laughed.

"Every day. How are you and how is Blaine doing?" Burt asked. He really did miss Kurt, the house was so quiet since he'd been gone. Burt was quite aware that this is what it was going to feel like when Kurt went off to college.

"We're fine. Oh, Dad, you'll never guess where I am!" Kurt crowed, his excitement coming across to Burt in every way.

"Where?"

"Okay, get out the tablet I got you. Is it on?" Kurt asked.

"Yeah, I was reading the morning paper."

"Okay, google Oheka Castle on Long Island."

There were a few minutes while Burt typed it in and then:

"Yeah, got it. Wow, that's some fancy castle. Looks like it belongs in Europe somewhere," Burt said.

"I'm staying on the top floor. Blaine wanted to thank me for coming to help him in New York, so we're here for the weekend. Dad, you won't believe this place. When we win the lottery we need to come here," Kurt said, his smile coming through in his voice.

"That's pretty cool, son. I'm glad you're having such a good time there."

"I am, Dad."

"Is that your Dad?" Blaine asked, coming out of the bathroom.

Kurt nodded.

"Let me speak to him?"

"Hold on, Dad. Blaine wants to speak to you," Kurt said, giving Blaine a quizzical look.

"Hello, Mr. Hummel?"

"Blaine."

"My doctor has cleared me medically to fly again, so we will be home on Thursday. I bet you'll be glad to see Kurt," he said, knowing the special bond Kurt had with his father.

"Are you sure you're well enough?" Burt asked.

"Yes, sir. I'm doing fine. I'm even out of the wheelchair," Blaine said.

"That's good to hear. It will be good to have the two of you home again," Burt said.

"Thank you, Mr. Hummel. Here's Kurt."

"I can be at the airport to pick you guys up, just let me know when," Burt offered.

"I will, Dad. I'll see you then," Kurt said. "Love you."

"I love you, too, kid."

"I need to take a shower, then we can go down for breakfast," Kurt told Blaine, then disappeared into the bathroom.

He came out a short time later to find Blaine sitting by the window – looking out at the view of the gardens and Long Island Sound in the distance.

"Whatcha doin'?" Kurt asked, sitting down beside Blaine. The boy reached over to take Kurt's hand in his.

"Looking. I hope I never in my life take seeing for granted again," he said, a tear escaping his eye and rolling down his cheek. Without thinking, Kurt leaned over and caught the tear with his lips, kissing Blaine's cheek. Blaine turned his head slightly, moving so their lips met.

They kissed, Blaine moving his hand to cup Kurt's jaw as he deepened the kiss a tiny bit. It startled Kurt, feeling Blaine's tongue dart across his lower lip and he pressed harder. They kissed for a while, then Kurt pulled back, blushing deep red when he thought of his resolve to move away from Blaine before he discovered all the reasons they were not going to last. One day he was bound to notice that Kurt just didn't measure up to someone of his class.

"What would you like to do today?" Blaine asked as they finished breakfast.

"I have no idea at all," Kurt replied. He didn't know anything about Long Island except that Jerry Seinfeld had lived here as a young boy.

"We can go see Sagamore Hill where Teddy Roosevelt lived, or we can pick fruit – oh, never mind. It's too early for peaches and strawberries. Ah, what about going to a museum? There are lots of those; we can see where Charles Lindbergh took off for his flight to Paris?"

Kurt nodded, not clear yet on which thing he wanted to do.

"Oh! I know! You wanted to see an ocean? We can go to the beach!" Blaine said, grinning.

"But – I don't have a bathing suit, or sun-block, or, or..." Kurt babbled, stunned at the things Blaine could think up.

"No problem. Let me call Charles and we can go. Don't think about it, Kurt. Just say yes and we'll see where it takes us. Quit being so damned uptight," Blaine said.

Kurt stopped. His face turned to a frown and he blushed red with unwanted angst.

"You don't understand, Blaine. You never will," Kurt whispered and go up, running to the bathroom and slamming the door.

Blaine sat, shocked at Kurt's outburst. What did he do? Was Kurt afraid of the water maybe? He sat there, looking out the window to think about what went so wrong when he had thought it was going well.

Kurt had frowned when he mentioned the swim suit, but he got upset when Blaine had told him to stop being to uptight? Yes, that was it. He didn't know Kurt was so sensitive. Blaine hung his head. How could he hurt the one person who had stuck by him through all of this. Even Blaine's family hadn't been there for him – his mom didn't come to New York with him, his brother spent his time chasing girls, and his dad had flown back to Iceland without a decent goodbye.

But Kurt? He'd been by Blaine's side throughout the whole thing. Even when he missed his dad, he'd chosen to stay with Blaine. He was the most steadfast friend he'd ever had.

"Kurt?" Blaine asked, knocking softly on the door. "Kurt? Come out, please. I am so sorry for anything I said. I'm just a clumsy oaf sometimes..."

There was no sound from the bathroom.

"Please, Kurt?"

Blaine stood by the door, waiting for just a noise. No, nothing. He gathered his courage and hoped Kurt wasn't sitting on the toilet or anything, and opened the door.

"Blaine."

"Hey, Kurt. Can you come out and talk to me?" Blaine begged.

Kurt looked up at him from his place on the floor in front of the bathtub - with sad eyes, red from crying. He just sat there, trying to think what to do.

Blaine went to the sink and wet a wash cloth with cool water and sat down on the floor, pressing the cool cloth to Kurt's eyes. Kurt covered Blaine's hands with his own, leaning into the coolness. It felt good on his face.

"Okay, let's get up off this floor and go talk," Blaine asked quietly, almost afraid to say anything to his friend. Kurt gave in. He sighed and stood up, helping Blaine to stand. They went back in the room and Kurt led him to the bed. He lay down and Blaine laid down next to him, cuddling close beside him.

"I don't know what I said to upset you so much, but I can guess. I told you not to be so uptight – but I didn't mean anything bad by it. I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings, Kurt. Please forgive me."

"It wasn't just what you said, Blaine."

"Then what was it? I can't fix it if I don't know what I did," Blaine said, confused.

"I like you Blaine – so much! But I cannot let this continue. I don't know how to explain," Kurt hung his head.

"Just say it. I won't take offense, I'll listen to what you have to say," Blaine offered.

"Its just...well, I don't belong. I feel it every time we go somewhere, or your friends come to visit..."

"I don't know what to say, Kurt. I think you belong. Has anyone said something to make you feel this way?" Blaine asked, "Because that isn't fair. If anyone is bothering you – please let me know. Please?"

"Of course. Oh, Blaine. The world is just not fair. I can't date you! It's like the mutt from the junkyard keeping company with the prize show dog. Don't you see? I just don't belong!"

Blaine sat up and took Kurt's hands in his own.

"Oh, Kurt. That isn't true at all. You fit in perfectly. I love being with you, and we had a good time walking in Central Park, didn't we?" Blaine pleaded.

"We did – I guess I forgot when we had so much fun. But I can't even dress properly to be seen with you, Blaine. It would take me months of wages to be able to buy an outfit worthy of being seen with you. Don't you understand?" Kurt blurted, so upset that he was no longer filtering what he was saying.

"Kurt, Kurt!" Blaine tried to say something but Kurt was on a roll and wasn't able to stop himself.

"No, Blaine, it won't work, no matter how much I wish it could. It isn't fair, but who ever said the world was fair? It isn't. My dad works harder than anyone I have ever known, but we are just barely middle class, we don't have expensive things – hell, we couldn't even afford to buy a dog like yours! I can't compete. I can't take you anywhere fancy like this castle – it is so above my station in life, my dad couldn't afford this on three month's salary, Blaine. I will never be able to have the things to wear to be acceptable in your circles, I am just the hired help. And it's breaking my heart because I am falling in love with you..." Kurt gasped, suddenly realizing what it was that he just admitted. He pulled the bedspread over his face, blushing and then bursting into tears as he realized how vulnerable he just made himself. He had no idea if Blaine liked him like that or if Blaine just liked kissing.

Kurt began to tremble, he was so upset with himself.

Blaine sat stunned. He had no idea Kurt felt that way. He wanted to bring him somewhere nice to reward him for all the amazing things he'd done for Blaine. He meant it as a gift, not to show off his family's fortune. He was so embarrassed that it came off as bragging.

"Oh, Kurt! No, I never meant to rub your nose in how much money you have. That never crossed my mind! It doesn't matter to me about things like that. You always look good to me, it doesn't matter what you wear. I like being with you, no matter the circumstances," Blaine tried to explain, but Kurt wasn't listening. He was hiding under the bedspread, crying.

"Kurt, you are not the hired help. Yes, Mother hired you to read to me. If that's what I thought of you then I'd never have invited you to be with me in New York. No, I asked her to ask you to come because I wanted to be with you. I was so frightened and the only person I wanted to have with me was the one I could lean on, the person I trusted, the person I was falling in love with..." Blaine said, realizing it for the first time. He knew he wanted to be near Kurt, to have him close and be able to kiss him; but it was just at that minute that he realized he was actually falling in love with Kurt.

Kurt shook his head no, not daring to believe that Blaine loved him as much as he loved Blaine. It couldn't be, could it? Kurt moved the bedspread off of his face.

"Blaine, it won't work. Your mother will never approve, she is s proper lady and a lower class boy should never be seen with her son!" Kurt said.

"Well, she isn't the one to make this decision. I am and I choose you."

Kurt snapped his mouth shut and just gazed at Blaine. He didn't know what to say. He reached out and touched his fingertips to Blaine's.

"It won't work, Blaine. Think! How many of your friends from school aren't on the social register? They all are, aren't they? Their parents can afford to send them to Dalton. They will probably go to Harvard and Dartmouth and Yale. I'd be lucky to get into a state or community college. Life isn't a fairy tale for me, Blaine, not like it is for you," he said, "I just don't belong."

"Kurt! That is not true. You are fast becoming the most important person in my life. I will not sit here and listen to you tear down what we've built because of some false social convention. It's not fair to us, it's not fair to me! I won't listen to it anymore, Kurt. You are the man I love. Okay?" Blaine said, throwing his arms around Kurt and kissing him on the cheek. "Okay?" he said again, "Please?"

Kurt sat still, looking into Blaine's eyes. He felt his heart beating so fast in his chest that it hurt.

He thought of things to say, protests about why it would never work, reasons why life was unfair and he needed to get home to his dad and not see Blaine again since he could read for himself now. But. But he wanted Blaine. And he couldn't think of anything after that...

"Okay," he whispered.

Blaine gathered him close, kissing Kurt's temple, his hair. Humming quietly as Kurt trembled at the newness of his acceptance of Blaine's viewpoint. Could it really work?

* * *

" _June Is Bustin' Out All Over"_ is from the 1945 Broadway play **Carousel** by Richard Rogers & Oscar Hammerstein II.


	12. With So Little To Be Sure Of . . .

My Reader – Chapter Twelve – With So Little To Be Sure Of

The boys lay quietly on the bed. It was only 9 am, so they had the whole day in front of them. They lay back to back but with one hand each touching the other boy's hand.

"Kurt?"

"Yeah?"

"Let's get up and go do something today? We can just think about what we've said. I don't want to rush anything. I also don't want to waste this weekend. We're going home on Thursday so let's make the most of it, okay?" Blaine suggested. He wanted to turn over, strip Kurt to nakedness and kiss him and touch him and...well, anything really. He also wanted to move slowly so as not to scare him.

"I'd like to see the beach if that sounds good to you?" Kurt said hesitantly.

"Yes! I'll call Charles and he can have the car ready," Blaine said in a jovial tone. He bounced on the bed a bit before going to change into jeans and a T-shirt. Kurt did the same.

_**At the shop near the beach** _

"I like the blue one with waves on it, it makes you look gorgeous," Blaine cooed, trying to decide which bathing trunks to buy for Kurt. His friend was reluctant to accept them, but Blaine had finally talked him into it.

"And stop trying to look at the price tag!" Blaine said sternly, ungripping Kurt's hand from the tag. Kurt rolled his eyes.

"I like the gold ones on you, the ones with the geometric designs?" Kurt mentioned. Blaine liked the silly pink ones with aqua cartoon crabs and mermaids on them or better yet the blue ones with multi-colored popsicles, but he put those back and picked up the gold ones to please Kurt.

"Okay, change and I'll be by the register," Blaine said, giving Kurt a winning smile.

They finished up and headed for the car. Charles drove them to the beach.

"I will be back at three to get you, please call if you want me to come sooner," Charles said.

"Okay, thank you," Blaine dismissed him and took Kurt's hand as they walked down to the edge of the ocean. Blaine set down the two beach bags filled with towels, sunscreen, snacks, bottles of water and fruit juice, even two pails to gather things if they decided to go beachcombing.

"There aren't very many people here, I thought it would be crowded," Kurt said, surprised at the empty sand.

"It isn't really beach season yet. You should see it during July!" Blaine said.

"Why did it say 'Private Beach'?"

"Oh, you have to belong to the club to use this beach. Mother and Dad belong. Don't worry, its okay if I'm here," Blaine assured Kurt.

"Oh."

"Hey, Kurt, don't go getting all funny on me. Are you not comfortable? I can call Charles to come back..." Blaine offered, embarrassed all of a sudden. He should have taken Kurt to a public beach but he didn't think. He thought being sort of alone would be better.

"I'm sorry. No, it's perfectly fine. I like being here with you. Let's set out the towels and then dip our toes in the ocean. Wow, I hadn't thought I'd be touching the Atlantic so soon! Can you take a picture of me with _my foot in the ocean!_ I'll send it to all my friends," Kurt enthused.

They put the blanket down on the sand and arranged things, then walked down to the shore, letting the cool water just touch their toes. Blaine took a picture of Kurt with his foot in the water and laughed when the water splashed up on his leg to startle him. What a great photo, perfect to send to his friends back home, Blaine was sure.

They walked back to the towels and sat down, Kurt opening the tube of sunscreen to rub all over his chest and face, arms and legs.

"Here, lay on your stomach on the towel and I'll get your back, legs, and shoulders – then you can get my shoulders. I only ever get too much sun on my shoulders," said Blaine.

Kurt laid down as asked and closed his eyes, wishing away his excitement at having Blaine's hands on his skin. He was gentle, slowly rubbing the lotion in and then rubbed around his ribcage. Kurt jumped in reaction – he had been grabbed so often at school, resulting in broken ribs several times, that the shock of feeling someone touch his ribs was disconcerting.

"Oh, I didn't mean to tickle you, Kurt!" Blaine said.

"It's okay, it was just unexpected. I can get my ribs," Kurt replied, deciding not to tell Blaine about the abuse, just letting him believe it tickled. If only...

Blaine sat in front of Kurt, letting the boy rub the lotion into his shoulders and back. Blaine never burned – especially in June – but the prospect of having Kurt's hands on him was too good to pass up. He loved the touch and had to think about the cold water of the ocean to stop any wayward hardening in his swim trunks.

Both lathered up, the boys walked down once again to the shore – this time with buckets in hand.

"Do you really find a lot in the sand?" Kurt asked.

"Not so much in the big stretches of sand, we'll look in the places by rocks and driftwood. Those are more likely to result in goodies. I've found a lot of different kinds of shells and things. My favorite are sea glass. I have several bowls of sea glass in my bedroom back home," Blaine said, his eyes on the ground by his feet as they climbed over rocks to look in the crannies between where things might be caught by the outgoing tide.

"Sea glass are pieces of glass that ended up in the ocean and the water and sand have smoothed it over time - like rivers do to rocks to make them round and smooth, right?" Kurt asked.

"Yes, they are popular I think – people make all sorts of things of them, mostly jewelry."

"I read somewhere that lavender is the the most precious of the colors of sea glass, is that right?" Kurt asked.

"Well, I don't know what the financial value is – but I like red glass the best. Brown, green, and white are the most common, though I've found everything from orange to sky blue to yellow to black. I like the really smooth ones that are slick in your hand. They make this amazing sound when you drop them into a glass bowl."

"Oh! Look!" Kurt shouted, though Blaine was right next to him.

"What?"

"I found a piece! It's green, but look..." Kurt enthused as he picked up the piece about the size of a quarter.

"I like that one, good eyes," Blaine flattered his friend, then stopped to inspect a piece that turned out to be a bit of plastic.

"I pick up any plastic I find to put in the trash so it isn't polluting the beach. I'm so afraid a bird or turtle or something might get hurt," Blaine explained.

"Good idea," Kurt said as his eyes tried to define each bit of rock, glass, shell or plastic on the beach.

They wandered away from each other, each in their own world as they walked down the beach.

"Kurt?" Blaine said, a happy note in his voice. He looked around himself as he scouted the shore for Kurt. He saw him a short distance down the beach and jogged over to show him his find.

"What's that?" Kurt asked, studying the piece of chalky-looking rock.

"Turn it over..." Blaine instructed. Kurt turned it over to find a small window through the chalk to the blue stone underneath.

"Wow! Is it like that under the shell of white stuff?" Kurt asked.

"Yes, this is an agate. You sometimes get them with this coating over them. When it's removed the agate underneath can be shiny – or you can have a jeweler tumble it to polish the agate. Blue is unusual, they are usually reddish to purplish brown."

"Cool. Oh, I see..." Kurt leaned over to pluck a slice of sea glass from under a small branch of driftwood. It was reddish brown. He added it to the pail and smiled at Blaine as he continued to search for more treasures. They continued to comb the beach for an hour, finally coming together to walk back to their blanket.

"Shall we dump our pails out and look them over or wait until tonight?" Kurt asked.

"Tonight. I want to go swimming, if that's okay with you?" Blaine asked. Kurt agreed but only after he'd had Blaine touch up his sunscreen.

They walked down to the water and waded in to the ocean.

"Oh! Its cold!" Kurt shrieked as he got up to his thighs. Blaine tried to laugh, but he was trying not to squeal himself it was so cool. They walked further, getting used to the temperature until they could just reach their toes to the bottom. They floated around, bouncing off the sandy bottom and grinning as their bodies got used to the cold.

"You're a good swimmer, aren't you?" Blaine asked, just to ease his mind. There was a lifeguard in the tower, but he didn't want to risk Kurt's life if he'd never been in water outside of a swimming pool.

"Yeah. We used to go to the lake every year with my cousins. We would dive off of the pier into icy water all the time. I'm okay," he smiled, happy that Blaine cared enough to ask.

They paddled around, looking at the waterbirds and ships out at sea, telling jokes and laughing.

They had swum out to a bunch of large boulders, amusing themselves by climbing up and sliding back into the water. Chasing each other across the little bay made by the group of rocks and then swimming back. On the last sprint across, Kurt won and Blaine came over and put an arm around him.

"Nobody can see us over here," he whispered, leaning close to Kurt and placing his lips on Kurt's mouth. Kurt kissed him back, slowly and deeply. He was enjoying this whole kissing thing, loving the intimacy of it. He really liked Blaine and kissing him was feeling better and better as time went by. He had stopped wondering how things would change when he went back to Ohio.

"What did you have in mind?" Kurt asked, a little bit afraid. He thought that because Blaine had been overseas and had so many friends that he probably had a bit more experience in things like kissing than Kurt did. That was so intimidating that he worried all the time about it.

"I like kissing you, Kurt," Blaine whispered into Kurt's ear, pulling the boy closer and kissing down his neck. Shivers ran down Kurt's spine, gooseflesh covered his arms.

"I like kissing you, too," he said, looking into Blaine's soft brown eyes.

"Would you like more?"

Kurt didn't know what to say. Yes, he'd dreamed of there being _more_ , ever since the day Blaine had kissed him the first time.

"Wh-what m-more?" Kurt asked, stuttering in his nervousness.

"Ah, Kurt? You do know there's more, right? People do more than just kiss."

"Of course I know that," he said a bit defensively. "I meant – what more? As in what did you have in mind?"

"This?" Blaine asked, sliding his hand down to cup the front of Kurt's swim trunks. Kurt gasped and accidentally slid on the rock, dunking down below the water and shooting back up, sputtering.

"Kurt! I'm so sorry...did I bump you?" Blaine asked, grabbing his friend and pulling him close to make sure he didn't slide into the water again. Kurt put his arms around Blaine, grabbing at him - getting his thumb stuck under the waistband of Blaine's trunks as he lost his footing and slid once more on the algae covered rocks and into the water...taking Blaine with him.

They both came up, sputtering and treading water as they looked at each other. Blaine's eyes got big and he dove back under, coming up again with a panicked look on his face.

"What?" Kurt asked.

"Ah...I lost my trunks? Weird, I thought I'd tied them on tight enough," Blaine said, then went back under. Kurt did, too, and saw a flash of sunlight highlighting a gold-and-brown blotch against a rock. He swam over and picked them up. A devious thought came into his head and he tucked the corner into the back of his own trunks, then faced Blaine as the boy came up for air.

"I cannot imagine where they went...there are rocks and sand all over the bottom of this area, so it didn't just float somewhere..." he said, hoping Kurt couldn't see under the water from here. He had cupped his hand in front of his crotch by instinct, all thoughts of seduction gone.

"Oh, no! Hey just like the girl in the itsy-bitsy-teeny-weenie-yellow-polka-dot bikini!" Kurt laughed.

"Except she was covered by _something_. I'm in my birthday suit!" Blaine retorted. It did nothing to stop Kurt from laughing for a few minutes until Blaine looked a little panicked and upset. He turned in a circle, trying to see under the water, knowing his trunks had to be somewhere.

Kurt took pity on him.

"Come here, I'll help you," Kurt offered and Blaine came close, not thinking about what exactly Kurt could help with. He found out. Kurt put his hand on the top of Blaine's thigh, slipping it up to cup his balls and over his cock and held his warm hand there.

"Better?" Kurt asked, shocked at himself, but enjoying it as he felt Blaine's cock fill.

"Much better..." Blaine whispered, putting his arms back around Kurt. Kurt reached back with his other hand and brought the missing trunks to give back to Blaine.

Blaine wasn't thinking of his trunks just then, he was filled with thoughts of Kurt and his warm, searching hands. This boy was kissing him again, his soft, gentle hands touching him in all the best places. He kissed Kurt back, pushing himself closer and finally reaching into Kurt's trunks to cup him, too.

After ten long minutes of feeling, touching, and kissing the boys decided to go back to the beach before things got too wound up. Kurt was shivering and Blaine felt cold, too. He managed to get his trunks back on and kissed Kurt one more time before they swam to shore. Blaine smiled before taking Kurt's hand and walking back to the beach. They went to the towels and dried themselves, putting on warm shirts and making their way to the refreshment shack. They got sandwiches and drinks and sat looking out to sea, just enjoying each others' company.

The boys spent the last hour just sitting together, happy to be there. Several people waved at Blaine, sending his parents best wishes. It was just three o'clock when they were waiting in the parking lot and Charles drove up in the towncar to take them back to Oheka Castle.

"I don't know if I want a big supper tonight," Kurt said, "I'm still full from the sandwiches we had at the beach."

"I am, too. So, maybe just a salad?" Blaine suggested.

"Sounds like a plan," Kurt agreed as they walked down the grand staircase to the restaurant back at the Oheka.

They were seated and ordered their suppers, unable to stop smiling at each other.

"Blaine, I just wanted to thank you for this weekend. I've loved every minute of it. This has been unique and interesting and absolutely thrilling. Thank you," Kurt said. He had no way of giving something back to Blaine of equal value in his eyes, no way of thanking Blaine enough and he felt at a disadvantage. Blaine could probably not even understand how Kurt was feeling and it was disconcerting. He frowned for an instant, but brightened his face when he saw Blaine smiling. His eyes twinkled which was probably Kurt's favorite thing about him.

They both had Italian chicken soup and a seafood salad with lobster, shrimp, calamari, scallops, and mussels. Neither wanted dessert, so they walked back up to their room to sit in the picture window and watch the lights across the island.

"What a wonderful day!" Blaine exclaimed, getting up to get the pails of treasures they had collected on the beach that afternoon. After covering the table with newspaper, the boys poured out their finds.

"Oh! Look at that piece," Kurt said, pointing out a piece of pale blue glass.

"It's a pretty color, but it isn't worn down enough. See the edge is still too sharp? If the color wasn't so unusual, I'd have tossed it back in to wear down some more. I'll have to be careful not to cut myself on it. Look, you found a nice blue piece, too," Blaine pointed out, picking up the shard of smoothed-over cornflower-blue glass.

"You can have it," Kurt said generously, picking it up and setting it down in Blaine's pile.

"Oh, thank you! I love the shades of blue in the sea glass. They remind me of your eyes," Blaine smiled and leaned over to kiss Kurt's cheek. Kurt blushed.

The boys picked through the rest of the treasures...shells, a few pretty rocks, a piece of gold chain that Kurt found tangled in some seaweed, and two skeletons of tiny crabs that Blaine saw in the sand. Blaine yawned, not used to the exertion of the day.

"Maybe we should get to bed? You look tired," Kurt mentioned, sympathy in his eyes.

"I am a bit. Want to go first in the shower?"

"Sure. I'll only be a few minutes..." Kurt said.

While Kurt was in the shower, Blaine took the chalk-covered blue agate out of his pocket and placed it in his shaving kit to take home. He had a plan for it and smiled at himself. He hoped Kurt would like his idea.

Kurt was out of the shower: hair combed, teeth brushed, and pajamas on ready for bed.

Blaine went into the bathroom, shedding his clothes and jumping into a hot shower to scrub the sand out of his hair. He stood under the pounding water, truly appreciating the pressure of the water as it stripped the dirt and sand from his body with the help of his loofah and pepper-and-sage soap that his mother got him for Christmas. He thought about her good taste in gifts, feeling how much he was missing her. As much fun as New York could be, he was ready to admit that he missed plain old boring Ohio. He rinsed off again and decided to stand in the hot water to relieve the small amount of muscle ache he was experiencing from too much exercise today.

Back in the room, Kurt sorted out his clothes, putting the soiled ones in their plastic bag to set in his suitcase to wash when he got back to the apartment in Manhattan. He had almost forgotten his prize that he'd found in the sand on the beach. It was after their beach combing expedition, when they'd gone over to the rocks that formed the little bay. There on one of the low-sitting boulders was a tangle of seaweed and driftwood. He liked the form of the small piece of driftwood, thinking it would look good in the back flower garden. He'd picked it up, setting it further up on the rock so he could pick it up when they went back to the shore when his eye caught a glint of red. Blaine had mentioned that he loved red sea glass the best and this piece was perfect. It wasn't a dark blood red like had come to Kurt's mind when Blaine mentioned it – no, this was an almost orangey red, the color of a spectacular sunset. It was bright and seemed almost energetic. A perfect color for Blaine. Maybe Kurt could get it made into something when he got back home. He put the glass in his suitcase inside a bit of newspaper. With a smile, he zipped the case shut and put it on the floor beside the bed.

"Ready for bed?" Blaine asked, coming out of the bathroom a few minutes later. His hair was a bit damp, but drying it with a hair dryer tended to make the fluffy curls absolutely insane – fly-away and Meddusa-like – so he'd just gotten it sort of dry. He hoped it wouldn't bother Kurt.

"Yes. I turned down the bed..." Kurt said as he took off his robe and hung it over the back of a chair. He slid his feet out of his slippers and sat down on the side of the bed and felt it as Blaine did the same on the other side.

"It feels cooler than last night," Blaine mentioned, sliding his feet under the sheets. "Maybe the air is damper, too?"

"I bet it rains before morning. I think we went to the beach on the best day," Kurt said, running his fingers through his hair to try and make it a bit neater before he laid down.

They settled down in the bed, then Kurt got up and opened the window to take advantage of the slight breeze that was coming in.

"It even smells like rain out there," Kurt said, happy about that. He loved the smell of rain.

They went to bed, neither boy finding sleep. After an hour, Kurt rolled over to face Blaine.

"You can't sleep, either?" Blaine asked.

"Nope. Sorry, was I keeping you up?"

"Depends on what you mean by 'up'," Blaine joked, trying to see Kurt's eyes in the dark room.

Kurt smiled but didn't answer. He was still shy, even after the incidents at the beach today.

"Kurt?"

"Sorry. I didn't mean to stop you from sleeping. Was I twitching or something? I was feeling a bit restless."

"No, I just couldn't seem to fall asleep. Maybe all the excitement of the day was on my mind. Or maybe thinking about when we go home to Ohio? How are you feeling about that?" Blaine asked, touching Kurt's chin and sliding his fingers along the strong jaw to know where he was in the dark.

"I really don't know. I feel as if I'm going to return to Ohio a very different person than when I left it," Kurt whispered, then leaned forward enough to place his lips on Blaine's mouth. Blaine responded enthusiastically. He had been thinking about the closeness they had shared at the seashore all day. Maybe it was Sebastian's influence – all the sexual things he'd constantly been saying to Blaine for years, all the touching, albeit unwanted, that had to have an effect on Blaine's libido. While Seb wasn't consciously on his mind, Blaine was thinking about touching and getting closer to the boy he was so attracted to. They kissed for a while, Kurt finally lowering his head to the pillow and Blaine followed to keep kissing him.

"Can we...no shirts?" Blaine gasped, wanting to feel Kurt's skin on him once again.

Kurt nodded, unbuttoning his pajama shirt and taking it off to set on the bed before turning back to Blaine.

"Oh, Kurt..." Blaine whispered, the anticipation of being so close making his voice deeper.

Kurt laid back on the pillow again when Blaine pressed his hand against his chest. His science teacher's voice came to him, explaining that this was called his 'solar plexus' because of the nerve fibers radiating in a complex network out from this point. He was sure that the warmth of Blaine's fingers were touching every nerve in the whole network. He breathed deep, an attempt to keep himself from the dizzying effects of the touch.

"Blaine..." he breathed, running his own fingers down Blaine's sides to feel every rib. "What were we talking about at the shore? What did you mean by 'more'?"

Blaine didn't answer in words, he ran his hand down Kurt's chest to feel the muscles in his tense stomach. He kissed him again, humming quietly as he fell to his side, leaning his shoulder into the mattress to keep his balance. He leaned forward once again and ran his lips along Kurt's clavicle, his eyes tightly closed even though it was so dark in the room that neither one could really see anything. It just felt like too much with his eyes open.

"That...feels good," Kurt murmured. Blaine flexed his fingers and moved down further, running them just under the elastic waistband of Kurt's pajama bottoms to feel the bone at the top of his hip. "Mmmmm."

"Do you like that? I'm not tickling you?" Blaine asked, thinking of earlier when he'd run his hands down Kurt's ribs and the boy jerked back.

"No, it doesn't tickle..." Kurt breathed.

"Good. Can I go further?"

"Mmmm Hmmm," Kurt hummed, scared but determined not to let his fear rule this. He put his hand on Blaine's waist and rubbed his thumb along his waistband, too.

"Shall we...ah...lose the pants?" Blaine asked, fear of Kurt thinking badly of him weighing against his eagerness to feel Kurt's body.

"Ah...okay."

Kurt got out from under the covers to remove the cotton sleep pants. He wasn't wearing any underwear, so he climbed back under the covers naked.

Blaine slid in beside him and turned towards Kurt, putting his hand on the boy's waist.

"You okay?" Blaine checked again, hesitant now that he was faced with a naked boy in his bed. He hadn't planned anything past this – not knowing this would be happening tonight. He knew he had to keep things rolling before Kurt's shy nature took over and everything he'd gained in terms of intimacy might be lost, but what to do?

Kurt saved the day by running his hand down Blaine's side, along each rib and over his iliac crest – feeling along the bone that defined Blaine's hip. He went down the hip and ran his fingers along the side of his thigh.

"Blaine, you are so...beautiful. Your body is just amazing. I like touching your skin."

Blaine sighed, his eyes trying to see Kurt in the dark. He gave that up and hummed his appreciation, then ran his own hand down Kurt's side. Reaching his hip, Blaine decided not to go as far as his thigh and took a detour to cup Kurt's buttock.

"Mmmmm," Kurt hummed and moved closer. Blaine, surprised, allowed that and kissed him again. It was in the middle of the next kiss that flesh touched flesh and both boys jumped back, startled as their erections rubbed against each other.

"Oh!" Blaine gasped, surprised.

"Is that...your...is that okay?" Kurt asked, feeling the fire in his veins burst through his blood system and warm his whole body.

"Yes, very okay," Blaine said, wishing once again that he could see Kurt's face. It was hard to judge what he was feeling when Blaine couldn't see his expression.

Kurt reached down and ran a tentative finger along Blaine's cock, feeling him getting harder. He wrapped his fingers around the quickly filling appendage, noting in passing that Blaine hadn't been circumcised. Curious. Kurt didn't really know anyone who hadn't been – but then, he didn't make a habit of looking when he was in the boy's locker room. He shook his head slightly to banish all the random thoughts from his head. He wanted, no he _needed_ to concentrate on the here and now.

He ran his fingers up and down, loving the feel of the soft, silky skin as it moved over the hard muscle. With his other hand he felt down past the root and touched the soft globes below. He loved to touch his own balls when he was alone in his bed at night and hoped that feeling was universal. Blaine hummed again, a soft sound that made Kurt shiver.

"Yes..." Blaine barely breathed, as if he were holding his breath. Kurt grew bolder and squeezed softly before rubbing gently between the two egg-shaped balls. He closed his grip on the shaft and moved his hand up and down.

"Oh, Kurt..." Blaine whispered, then touched Kurt. He drew their cocks together, holding them so any movement achieved a motion that rubbed them together - and that felt wonderful.

"Blaine..." Kurt said again and Blaine fumbled in the bedcovers to find his pajama top; he didn't want Kurt to have to sleep on wet spots on the mattress.

"Kiss me?" Blaine asked, reaching Kurt's lips with a clumsy attempt that landed his lips first on Kurt's cheek, then moving over to his mouth. He licked Kurt's bottom lip, eager wet lips searching as the heat under the covers increased.

Kurt kissed Blaine, taking his attention from his hands to Blaine's lips as the boy moved down his jaw and onto his neck. It tickled and Kurt drew back for a moment, but Blaine moved back to his throat and sucked skin into his mouth, moving his tongue over the warmth but not sucking hard enough to leave a bruise. He didn't know how Kurt felt about love bites and didn't want to alienate him.

Kurt stopped paying attention to his nether regions when Blaine started to suck and all Kurt could think about was how that might feel further down. His balls pulled up close to his body and the heat that had been stirring in his blood suddenly coalesced in his stomach and spine, warning Kurt of what was about to happen. Before he could do something about it, his orgasm was past the point of no return and a groan filled the air as Kurt shot hot into Blaine's hand.

Blaine had his pajama shirt in the strategic place and it was a good thing because he was there before he'd had time to think about it. The warmth of Kurt's semen on his hand was all the catalyst he needed to bring his orgasm right there, right then and he was riding the heat with his eyes closed tightly and his hand gripping harder.

"Oh...Kurt, Kurt, Kurt..." he whispered, amazed and hot and everything all at once. The boys gripped each other, Blaine's face in Kurt's neck until they were done.

Both boys lay back, trying to catch their breath. It had been gentle and sweet, and everything it was meant to be. No shouting, no swearing, just an amazing first for both of them. Blaine reached down to make sure it was all contained in the pajama top, none on the bed, and that Kurt was cleaned off. He wiped his own body to make sure and rolled the pajama top into a cylinder and placed it on the floor beside the bed.

"Can I hold you?" Kurt's shy voice asked and Blaine rolled closer to feel Kurt's arms surround him. It was warm and sweet and just right. They fell asleep in each other's arms.

* * *

" _With So Little To Be Sure Of"_ is from the 1964 Broadway musical **Anyone Can Whistle** by Stephen Sondheim.


	13. If My Friends Could See Me Now

**My Reader – Chapter Thirteen - If My Friends Could See Me Now**

Wednesday was a whirlwind trip around New York. They had already gone to several museums, art galleries, and gardens since they'd come to stay at the Anderson apartment and today was to be a handful of touristy sites.

"You'll love this one!" Blaine exclaimed, getting his clothes on. He chose a pair of ivory pants with an aqua button-down shirt and pink bow-tie. Blaine lifted his pants legs to show Kurt that he was wearing orange socks.

"Gosh, Blaine. All you need is some glitter, you look like an ad for a gay pride parade," Kurt teased, not realizing that his natural snark was showing through. Blaine blushed and hurried back to his room to rethink his outfit for the day.

"Oh, hey, Blaine! I didn't mean anything by that," Kurt rushed to apologize. He hadn't meant to hurt Blaine's feelings.

"No, you're right. Here, how about the ivory pants with a teal blue polo shirt and gray bow tie? Better?" Blaine asked, holding the shirt in front of himself, a sweet smile on his face.

"You look good in anything you wear. New York is a bit more flamboyant than Lima, Ohio. Go ahead and wear whatever your heart desires, Blaine. I know you'll look good and I will be proud to be seen with you," Kurt said, kissing Blaine on his cheek.

"What are you wearing?"

"I thought my navy linen trousers with a short-sleeved white shirt. It has little anchors embroidered in the fabric, and a red tie? I guess I'm feeling kind of patriotic with going to see the Statue of Liberty and all. Would that work?" Kurt asked. He was still in the running suit he'd worn early that morning to take Macushla to the park with Blaine.

"Perfect! Wear good shoes, we'll be walking a lot today," Blaine suggested.

"Is that okay for you? I don't mind doing a bit less because I don't want you to strain your leg. You've only just recovered from that accident. Maybe we should bring your wheelchair?"

"NO. I will be fine, Kurt. I promise to let you know if I get tired or sore, okay?" Blaine pleaded. He was so sick of being babied.

"Okay, I'll trust you to tell me then," Kurt agreed, but he planned to keep a close eye on his friend.

"First stop...Top of the Rock Observatory," Blaine grinned.

He had purchased New York passes that included most of the best tourist sites and put them to the head of the line. Top of the Rock was at the top of an art deco building near Central Park.

"Wow!" Kurt said, looking out over the city.

"Yeah, it's pretty spectacular," Blaine said, coming up in back of Kurt and putting an arm casually around Kurt's waist.

"Is that – the Empire State Building?" Kurt asked, pointing at the building.

"Yeah, it is," Blaine said. He wanted to kiss Kurt, but there were a lot of people in the observatory and he settled for an arm around his waist.

They looked out the glass at the beautiful buildings for a long time before leaving for the next stop.

"Where are we going now?" Kurt asked.

"We have several choices...there's the Fashion Windows Walking Tour that takes us by all the famous fashion houses in New York City, or we can visit the Catacombs under St Patrick's Cathedral...or we can go over to Battery Park and take a cruise of Lower Manhattan and the Statue of Liberty, Governor's Island, and Ellis Island aboard a Tall City Clipper Ship?"

"Oh, my stars in heaven. I don't know...the tall ship? Is that one with big sails?"

"Yes, see?" Blaine opened a window on his phone and showed Kurt the picture.

"Yes! That's the one!" he crowed, excited to see so much in one trip, and to do it aboard a clipper ship.

 _If my friends could see me now,_ he thought, _they'd never believe it._

He'd picked this one because it seemed to have the least amount of walking. He was still worried about Blaine overdoing it with his leg after just getting out of the wheelchair. The fashion tour sounded good, as did the catacombs, but both were walking tours. This was definitely the best choice.

The weather couldn't have been better as they sailed around Lower Manhattan, the wind in the sails of the ship as they sailed past landmarks. Kurt took photos with his phone camera, but the sites took a backseat to the fun of being on the ship.

"Oh, Blaine, this is the best thing ever. Have you done this before?" Kurt asked.

"Sort of. I've never been on this ship, but we did sail in Greece a few years ago. It's twice the fun being with you, though," Blaine smiled at him.

"I don't know about that – I think seeing the coast of Greece would be so much fun with those white towns with blue roofs?"

"I did see a few of those, but I went with Cooper while our parents were in meetings. You are better company than my goofy brother. Believe me, I'd rather kiss you..." Blaine laughed, leaning over to kiss Kurt.

Kurt nervously looked around, not able to stop the habit after growing up in Lima. He'd been bullied for too long.

"What's up, Kurt? Did you see someone you'd rather kiss?" Blaine asked, only half kidding. Blaine was wondering why Kurt looked around every time he kissed his cheek this morning.

"Oh...nothing. Sorry. I'm not used to being able to show my true self what with the homophobic attitudes in Lima. But you live there – you know what its like," Kurt stumbled.

"I guess so. I guess I forgot what its like away from Dalton."

"Why is it different away from Dalton? That's your high school, right?" Kurt asked, chewing on his cuticle – a thing he never did unless he was incredibly nervous.

"No bullying policy, everyone gets treated the same no matter what," Blaine said in a sing-song voice as if he'd repeated it a thousand times.

"Really? Does that work?"

"Yeah, it does."

Kurt was quiet for a minute, then looked out across the harbor, spotting the Statue of Liberty and pointing. Their attention was captured by the landmark and taking pictures took precedence over their discussion.

It was nearing evening when the boys got home, stumbling into the apartment with wide smiles and sparkling eyes. Macushla greeted them at the door, whining to go out.

"Okay, okay. Let me get your leash..." Blaine said, entering the apartment to grab it. They didn't even stop to change before they were back on the way to Central Park to run the dog.

Forty-five minutes later, food bags in hand, Kurt and Blaine were back at the apartment. They'd stopped by Rosie's food stand to get their favorite lobster sandwiches for the last time.

"Let's eat and then veg in front of the television?" Blaine suggested, clearly tired after the tour of the city.

"Sounds like a plan to me," Kurt said. He was tired, so he knew Blaine had to be exhausted.

They changed into pajamas and cuddled up on the sofa together, popping in a movie.

Blaine turned the sound down.

"You know things are going to be different when we get back," he said, taking Kurt's hand in his.

"Yeah, I guess they will be."

"What way were you thinking?"

"Ah...between us? I mean, well...what did you mean?" Kurt asked, suddenly shy to say what he was feeling.

"We will be good this summer – it's not even half over. We can hang out together, right?"

"Won't you want to be with your other friends? The Warbler guys, Sebastian?" Kurt asked. He didn't know how much it would hurt to say Sebastian's name out loud.

"Yeah, we can hang out with the Warblers – but I'm in no hurry to be with Sebastian. I mean, I hold him no ill will, but I don't want to spend time with him. I want to spend time with you, Kurt."

"You do?"

"Geeze, what do you think? That I have sex with every guy I can get to go to a hotel with me? Really? That didn't mean anything to you?" Blaine asked, incredulous. He sat up away from Kurt's side and stared at him.

"Blaine, wait. You didn't understand – or I didn't. I like you. I like you a lot. But I'm not used to...any of this. I'm used to getting beat up for wearing clothes that are more colorful that the average jock. I'm used to getting slammed into lockers and the teachers turning a blind eye. I'm used to getting invited to the girls' sleepovers because I'm 'safe', where they treat me like one of the girls. I know I'm more comfortable with them – at least they don't hurt me physically, but I'm not a _girl_.

"To have someone treat me like a..ah...ah...boyfriend? Can I say that? To be treated with respect? As if I mattered? I don't know what to do with that, Blaine. I'm sorry," Kurt blurted, getting up from the sofa to walk into the bedroom he was using. He shut the door quietly.

Blaine just sat on the sofa, stunned. This was the second time he'd felt this way this week, flummoxed that Kurt could go from cuddly pal to cold bitchy attitude in sixty seconds. Would he never figure out how to talk to Kurt?

_Knock knock._

"Kurt? Can I come in, Kurt?"

No answer, but Blaine opened the door and walked in anyway. Kurt was curled up on the bed, his face to the wall. Blaine crawled into bed next to him and put his arms around the boy. He didn't say anything, just held him.

Blaine expected Kurt to be crying again, but he wasn't. He just laid there, face to the wall. After a few minutes he pressed back against Blaine.

"So sorry, Kurt. I had no idea it was that bad for you. Want to tell me about it?"

"No. I don't want to think about it, but I guess I do owe you an explanation. You know when I didn't come over to your house and didn't call? I was in the hospital – they hit me so hard they tore my kidney. Do you know how hard you have to be hit to _tear your kidney_? And it wasn't the first time. Plus, most of the time I have to hide it from my dad. He had a heart attack last year and I can't let him get upset, so I never tell him about the abuse. It hurts me – but it might kill _him,"_ Kurt stopped to get some air in his lungs. He was so upset, but he realized it had nothing to do with Blaine so he took a much needed breath and started over.

"This trip, well, it was amazing. Not just because of all the places we saw but because I never had to be on the lookout for some colostomy-seepage asshole to sneak up on me and hurt me. I can't even walk to the park at home without worrying about who might be out there," Kurt went on, not daring to look at Blaine in his rant.

Blaine grinned for just a second. _Really? Who called someone 'colostomy-seepage'?_ Kurt was the snarkiest person he'd ever met and he really appreciated his humor.

"On top of that? I got to spend time with you, Blaine. I mean, it has been so good to watch movies with you, be with you through all of this – but it got even better. I _feel_ so much – and I wasn't sure at first if that was returned. We got closer and then at the castle. . . I'd never have thought of being that close to anyone, but..."

Kurt turned over and kissed Blaine's mouth. Blaine kissed back, holding Kurt next to him.

"It won't be like this back in Lima, will it?" Kurt asked, his face sad.

"What makes you think so? I'm not going to stop wanting you just because we change time zones," Blaine said.

"We won't be together – not alone together. I doubt your mother will allow that, I'm just a paid employee in her eyes, Blaine. You might not see class lines, but I'd bet the farm that she does."

Blaine sighed. Kurt was right. Blaine would have to work hard to convince his mother that there was someone he loved – wait, loved? He examined it, turned it over in his mind and realized that yes, he did love Kurt. He smiled at the thought but it was new and tender, not a thought he could say out loud yet.

"Kurt, I think we can make this work. I'll take care of Mother. We'll be fine," he said in a reassuring tone that was more wishful than it sounded. He leaned forward and kissed Kurt again.

"This is our last night together, Kurt. Let's not waste it because we might not get another one for a while."

In the end they just kissed and cuddled and fell asleep early.

* * *

_**Back in Ohio** _

"He's fine back there, Blaine, the crate is tied down securely to the bed of the truck and he's safe inside," Burt assured Blaine. He'd picked the boys up at the airport and was going to drive Blaine home before taking his son back to their house.

The three of them got into the pickup, Kurt in the middle, and hooked their seat belts before Burt started the engine.

"Are you glad to be home, Blaine?" Burt asked.

"Of course. I love New York, but our home in Ohio is so green. I don't miss the smoggy air and loud traffic at all," Blaine grinned. He was happy to be home, happy to be here with Kurt in his dad's truck where Kurt had taken his hand and was holding it out of sight between them.

Burt hadn't fallen off the turnip truck yesterday and noticed the boys holding hands, in spite of the fact that Kurt had them hidden between them.

"I bet your mom will be glad to have you back home," he continued. Blaine smiled again, though it wasn't quite so enthusiastic.

"Yes, I know Mother worried about me, but everything is fine," Blaine said. "The surgery went well, I can see just fine, and my legs and arms are all in working order."

"Oh, Dad! I had the best time. The last day we went for a cruise in the harbor on board a clipper ship – the tall ones with the big sails! You would have loved it. I know we will go back some day and take you on a cruise!" Kurt crowed, so full of enthusiasm for his time in New York City. "I know now more than ever that I want to live in the City, it felt like home."

"I'm so happy for you, Kurt. Happy for you, too, Blaine, for your recovery. Your folks have a nice place there."

They chatted all the way to Blaine's house, mostly about the things Kurt got to see and do. Burt could feel that his son was holding back something, but he couldn't tell what it was. He had a pretty good guess, however, considering they were holding hands and sending each other certain looks. Burt liked Blaine, but he wasn't too certain about the two of them getting together. Maybe it had been a mistake to let Kurt go? Burt shook his head, no – it was better for Kurt. Summers were not always the idyllic time they had been when Kurt was younger. He was sad a lot of the time, spending his days in the backyard reading in the hammock instead of hanging out with pals. When he did hang out it was with girls where Kurt looked the odd one out. Maybe finding Blaine would be a good thing? At least he could act like a boy. Not meaning a football jock, but like a gay young man not forced into being 'one of the girls'.

Burt sighed. He missed Elizabeth at times like this. What would she do?

"Its the next right turn, Mr Hummel," Blaine instructed.

"Burt. My name is Burt. When you say 'Mr Hummel' I look around for my granddad," Burt frowned. Blaine blushed.

"Burt."

Kurt hid his smile in his shoulder.

They made the turn and drove down the long, long drive to the circle in front of the mansion. Blaine got out and ran up the stairs into his mother's loving arms.

"Mama, I missed you," he said, holding her tighter.

"I missed you, too, darling. How are you feeling?" she asked.

"I'm fine, really good. I can see perfectly, I can run again. Everything is back to normal," he told her with a smile.

Margaret was immediately suspicious. Blaine was a happy child, but this enthusiasm? Something more was afoot here. She glanced up to see Mr Hummel getting Blaine's suitcases out of the back of his truck. Kurt was in the bed of the truck opening the large metal crate that held Machusla. The boy was gazing back at Blaine.

Ah, that was it. He perhaps had a small crush on Blaine? Well, it wouldn't be the first boy to like Blaine in that way. Jeff Sterling had been a close friend for years but Blaine never showed any return of affection for him – just a healthy friendship. The same for that shy boy, Trent Nixon. Even Sebastian didn't get a second look and he'd been after Blaine since they were thirteen. No, Blaine had a good head on his shoulders and wouldn't waste time on puppy love.

Macushla jumped down from the truck and came running over to greet Dr Anderson. She patted the big dog, happy to have him home, too.

"It looks like Macushla had a good time, too. How did he do in the apartment?" Dr Anderson asked.

"He was fine. Kurt took him running every morning in Central Park. I was glad when I could run with them," Blaine said, looking past his mother at the Hummel men walking towards them.

"Mr Hummel, good to see you. Welcome back to Ohio, Kurt. I trust you had a good time in New York?"

"It was wonderful, thank you so much Dr Anderson," Kurt said politely.

"I'll have a check for you in the morning. I'll need your address to mail it," she said with a kind smile.

"Its okay, Mother, I'll take it to him," Blaine grinned.

Dr Anderson looked at her son. He had a new glow about him, something intangible but definitely there. What was going on?

"Of course, Blaine," she said, then turned to Burt as he walked up, carrying Blaine's suitcases.

"Oh, Mr Hummel. Thank you so much for fetching my son from the airport. I hope it wasn't any trouble," she said, shaking his hand.

"Its Burt. No, no trouble at all. I was happy to do it. Next time I'll borrow a horse trailer for the dog, though."

Dr Anderson laughed.

"He's a beautiful dog. Blaine tells me you have others?"

"My brother breeds Irish wolfhounds and we have several. Macushla is the only one that is allowed to roam the grounds unencumbered, though," Dr Anderson gave her son a direct look. Blaine blushed. He knew his dog was a bit wild and not as well mannered as the rest of the dogs.

"It was good to see you again, Dr Anderson," Burt started to say.

"Please, call me Margaret," the doctor said and Blaine barely closed his mouth after his astonished look at his mother. She never invited someone to call her by her first name unless she'd known them for years.

"Margaret, then. I need to get my son home, I am due at my garage this afternoon. Can't leave it to the mechanics," he smiled. "First, can I help Blaine in with his luggage?"

"Oh, no. The gardener should be here in just a moment to take the crate off of your truck," she smiled. "Ah, here he is now."

"We'll take the suitcases up to my room," Blaine said and he and Kurt were gone before Dr Anderson could protest.

"I guess this is goodbye for now," Kurt said, setting the suitcase down at the end of Blaine's bed.

"I will come over tomorrow to bring you your check," Blaine offered. He knew he was going to miss having Kurt with him every day.

"Okay. Oh, about that – I don't want your mother paying me to be your friend. That's just not right, Blaine," Kurt said, looking intently at Blaine.

"Do you want to explain to her that we are more than simple friends?" Blaine asked. Kurt blushed to the roots of his hair.

"No, I guess not," he whispered. He dared a look at Blaine through his lowered eyelashes.

"But we are more. More than just friends, right?" Blaine asked, stepping closer.

"Yeah, we are," Kurt whispered, leaning over to kiss Blaine. "I'm going to miss you tonight."

"And I'll miss you," Blaine whispered back. His arms went around Kurt and he held him close. "Nothing is going to keep us apart. I promise."

They kissed once again and walked back down the long staircase, holding hands until they reached the entrance door. Blaine risked a last kiss and they dropped hands before opening the door and joining their parents in the garden.

"Goodbye, Dr Anderson, and thank you for the privilege of accompanying Blaine to New York," Kurt said, shaking her hand.

"You are quite welcome, Kurt. Please come visit with Blaine whenever you wish. Thank you again for picking my son up at the airport, Burt," she ended with a warm smile.

Blaine thanked Burt and shook his hand and it was time to go. With a wave at Blaine, Kurt walked back to his dad's truck and they were off.

"Want to tell me what's going on, Kurt?" Burt asked as they drove along the highway back to their house.

"Ah...what do you mean?" Kurt asked, looking so, so innocent.

"Kurt, how long have I known you?"

"Point taken, Dad."

"Well then?"

"I had a wonderful time in New York. I got to see all these cultural things – museums, galleries, gardens – everything I ever dreamed of, Dad. We went on a clipper ship!" Kurt enthused. He glanced over at Burt to see if this was going to be enough. Obviously it wasn't. Burt was looking like he was going into full-on protective Dad-mode. Not good.

"Kurt."

"Okay. Yes, Blaine and I got very close. I guess I have feelings for him. I know he has feelings for me – he told me so – but even if he hadn't said anything I would have known. He was so kind to me from the beginning. He was hurting and scared and lonely for his family but even though he was going through all that, he made sure I was taken care of. He took my expectations of the city into account and we did all the touristy things that he'd probably done a hundred times and he made it fun for me."

"That's good, Kurt. I can see he was well brought up by Dr Anderson. He did those things because he wanted to be a good host," Burt speculated.

"It might have been like that in the beginning, but not after the first few days. He had as much fun showing me his New York as I did seeing and experiencing it," Kurt continued. Would this be enough to satisfy his dad? Nope, apparently not if the glare Burt was giving him was any indication.

"I think I like him. Blaine. I like him a lot," Kurt confessed, his voice low and shy.

"I kind of thought that's what was going on. I saw you two holding hands," Burt told his son, a smirk on his face.

"Dad!" Kurt shrieked.

Burt laughed.

"He's a nice boy, Kurt. Its okay, I'm glad you found him," Burt said, turning onto their street and hitting the garage door opener.

Kurt blushed to the roots of his hair and was very glad to be home. His room was his sanctuary and he'd be glad to be back there among his things once again.

"Thank you, Dad," he whispered, hugging his father before he took his suitcase up to his room. Burt patted him on his back, so happy that his son was home once again.

* * *

" _If My Friends Could See Me Now"_ is from the 1966 Broadway play **Sweet Charity** by Cy Coleman and Dorothy Fields.


	14. You Matter To Me

My Reader - Chapter Fourteen – You Matter To Me

Kurt's phone rang from under his pillow. He blinked awake and glanced at the time. It was 2:17 a.m.

"Hello?"

"Kurt? Did I wake you up?" Blaine's voice came over the cell.

"Blaine, it is 2:17 in the morning. What do you think?" Kurt said in a grumpy voice.

"Oh. I'm sorry. I just couldn't sleep. I should let you get back to sleep. . . " he said in a regretful tone.

"Blaine? Are you okay? You don't sound like yourself," Kurt worried. Maybe there was really something wrong?

"No, I'm fine. I just couldn't sleep and I didn't realize what time it was. Please forgive the intrusion."

"It was not an intrusion, I'm awake now – we can talk," Kurt said, sitting up in bed and running his hand over his face.

"I miss you. I miss not being able to snuggle up next to you. I miss the way you smell like a perfect summer day. I miss the warm kisses and enthusiastic hugs we shared," Blaine rattled off, letting his emotions show.

"Oh, Blaine, I miss all those things, too. It's only been a few days. Are you coming over tomorrow to bring the check from your mother?" Kurt asked. Blaine had been going to bring it the day before, but Burt had taken Kurt with him to work to help with deliveries.

"That depends, will you be home? Or will you be wandering the streets of Lima, delivering goodies to people other than me?"

"Ah. . . I'm not working tomorrow," Kurt laughed. Blaine could be so silly.

"Well, I was thinking I could pick you up and you could come over for a party I'm having?"

"A party?"

"Just a little get together with the Warblers. Bring your sunblock and swimsuit! We always have a good time at one of my pool parties," Blaine coaxed. Jeff and Trent had concocted this little soirée and Blaine wanted to have Kurt by his side.

"Blaine . . . . I don't think I'll fit in with them," Kurt whined, worried he would be the odd man out.

"Stop it, Kurt. I want you there, it's my party – what could go wrong? You've met the guys, they're all nice."

"Oh, Sebastian isn't coming then?" Kurt snarked.

Silence.

"Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't mean it, Blaine. Don't be angry with me," Kurt begged.

More silence, then Kurt heard a suppressed laugh.

"Oh, Kurt! You are so funny. I didn't see that coming. No, I didn't invite him. You won't have to worry," Blaine laughed.

"Okay. What time?"

"I'll text you all the deets."

"I'm going back to sleep, if you're okay now?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm going to go to sleep, too, and dream about all the things we did last time we were in our swim trunks, baby."

"Blaine! Blaine?" Kurt cried, but his boyfriend had hung up. Kurt rolled his eyes and fell back asleep only to dream about that night at the castle. . .

* * *

Kurt was still standing between his chest of drawers and his closet. He'd packed some clothes in a beach bag, then took them out and repacked others several times. He was wearing the aqua-blue swim trunks that Blaine had bought him on Long Island, an almost matching summer shirt buttoned up to the third button and his sunglasses on the top of his head.

No, that wouldn't do – it mussed up his carefully combed hair.

"Hey, Bud..." Burt burst in, looking at his son.

"Dad! You startled me!" Kurt gasped, holding his hand over his chest.

"Sorry, I was just wondering when you might be home after the beach party. Should I grab a bite to eat on the way home or will you be here to cook?"

"Better get something healthy, Dad. How about Nathan's Deli? They have that grilled chicken salad you like. Stay away from the pastrami though. Okay?"

Burt nodded.

"Sorry, Dad. I have no idea when the party will be over, I've never been to a party at Blaine's, but I imagine they would be the type to run late rather than break up early," Kurt said. "Are you sure you don't mind? I can be home when you get off work if you'd rather?" Kurt queried.

"No, no. I am looking forward to a quiet night to read my new Tom Clancy novel. No ballgames on tonight and I don't watch golf," Burt said, reaching out to pat Kurt's back gently.

"If you're sure . . . but I won't be home terribly late no matter what, Dad. You know I'm not a party guy."

"Just have fun, kid, and use your head. You have good instincts, listen to your heart and it will tell you the truth," Burt said, looking deep into his son's eyes. He knew Kurt was a good boy.

Kurt walked down the driveway. He'd parked his Lincoln Navigator at the end of the line of cars: Lexus, Prius, BMW, Acura TSX, and a Porche Panamera. His Dad would love to walk down this drive, each car probably costing more than his house.

He walked up the steps, knocking on the bright red front door. Dr. Anderson herself opened it instead of the usual maid.

"Hello, Dr. Anderson, it's so nice to see you, ma'am," Kurt said politely.

"Thank you, Kurt. It's good to see you, too. Blaine and his friends are out by the pool. It's straight ahead, through the kitchen and past the back garden," Dr. Anderson smiled.

"Thank you. Will you be joining us?" he asked.

"Not today, but thank you for asking. Oh, here's Macushla! He must have heard your voice."

"Cush, how are you, sweetie?" Kurt cooed, petting the huge dog – who wagged his long, long tail in response.

"Cush, show young Mr. Hummel where your boy is, go find Blaine!" Dr Anderson directed and the dog began to trot towards the kitchen door. Kurt grinned and followed the giant animal to the back garden and around to the pool.

"Hey, Trent! Let's throw the Man of the Hour in the pool?" Kurt heard a boy say as he walked along the tall hedge to the gate that led to the pool. His ears pricked up, somehow knowing they must mean Blaine. He hurried into the pool enclosure and set down his bags, then saw Blaine just as a small group of boys and girls gathered around him to carry him to the pool.

Kurt was wearing his swim trunks and quickly shed his shirt, going up on the far side of the group.

"Look over there!" he shouted and the youngsters all looked across the pool to where he had pointed at another boy walking along the pool edge. Just as they were all diverted, he grabbed Blaine's wrist and pulled him close, motioning to bend down and crawl behind the small wooden structure housing the pool's filtration system.

By the time the kidnappers were aware they'd been duped, Kurt and Blaine had gained the pool house and were hiding in the shower.

"You saved me!" Blaine laughed, kissing Kurt.

"I couldn't very well let them dunk you – I was planning on doing that later myself. I needed to make sure the drawstring on your trunks is nice and tight. We wouldn't want it to fall off in the water, would we?" Kurt smirked, remembering how Blaine had lost his trunks in the ocean.

Blaine grinned.

"Nope, can't have that, unless it was just the two of us again. . . ." he smiled and drew Kurt closer to give him a proper kiss. Trent walked in just as the boys were getting a bit more serious.

"Are they in there?" a voice called from outside.

"Nope – must have gotten behind the hedge. Let's go look in the garden," Trent said, winking at Blaine as he stepped back outside the shower. Blaine smiled, his pal had his back.

Macushla stepped into the shower just as Trent left and wagged his tail madly.

"Cush, baby. Did you come to the party? I thought you were in the house?" Blaine said to his dog.

"He was. Your mother told him to take me to you. I'd never been to your pool before," Kurt smiled, patting the great dog's head.

"You're the best doggie, aren't you?" Blaine cooed at his dog, then kissed Kurt one more time.

"So, this is where you're hidden," Sebastian said as he limped into the building. He glanced over at Kurt. "I see you're giving instructions to the pool boy. The deep water needs skimming, boy."

Kurt glared at Sebastian, frown lines marring his beautiful skin. Blaine touched his forehead to try and smooth them out. He frowned at Sebastian, too.

"You met Kurt at my apartment in New York, is your memory that poor?" he snapped.

"Oh, yes. The boy your mother hired to help you to your appointments. What's he doing at your party? Oh, Blaine, are you feeling poorly? I can help you up to your room and put you to bed," Sebastian offered, his sly look broadcasting the meaning of his words.

"No, Sebastian, you will not. If I have anyone in my rooms it would be Kurt. Not you. _Capisce_?" Blaine said, then moved to take Kurt's hand and lead him out to the pool.

"I thought you weren't inviting him?" Kurt whispered as they got near the poolside.

"I didn't. Whomever was in charge of the invitations did, thinking he was my friend. I couldn't exactly throw him out," Blaine said sadly. "If it makes any difference, he doesn't mean any harm. I just ignore him and he gets the hint. Eventually."

"If you say so - " Kurt mumbled, then smiled at Blaine. "Want to take a dip?"

"Sure, why not," Blaine agreed and grabbed Kurt's hand, leaping into the ten foot end. They made a great splash before all of his friends noticed.

"Blaine! Blaine!" some called and there was a sudden influx of swimmers in the pool, swimming towards Blaine. He dived under them and up across from them before diving again. They played cat-and-mouse for a while until Blaine got tired.

"I'm all in, let's go sit by the pool and get something to drink," he whispered to Kurt, who followed him out of the pool. He grabbed his towel and they settled in the chaise lounges in the shade.

"I can put more sunblock on you," Blaine suggested, finding a bottle on a nearby table and motioning for Kurt to move forward so he could sit behind him on the chaise.

"Mmmmm, that feels good," Kurt said, then blushed dark red when he realized what it sounded like. He heard Blaine giggle and press harder along his spine with the sunblock.

"I like to make you feel good, Kurt," he whispered and enjoyed it when Kurt blushed even darker red.

"Stop it, Blaine. You're embarrassing me," Kurt gritted out between his teeth.

"Sorry. You know I was just kidding you. I don't mean any harm," Blaine apologized, leaning forward to leave a soft kiss just under Kurt's ear in a place he knew made Kurt shiver. He wasn't disappointed. Without saying anything, he slipped his hand into Kurt's and gave it a squeeze.

"How about a nice dip in the hot tub?" Blaine thought of next. He took Kurt's hand and they walked over to the enclosure and closed the gate before stepping into the warm water. Kurt sat down across from Blaine, closing his eyes as the water rushed over his back. He leaned into the force and was enjoying it when Blaine moved closer to him.

"Do you like the temperature? I could turn the heat up?" Blaine asked.

"No, I'm quite hot enough," Kurt answered, opening his eyes to find two toffee brown eyes looking into his blue ones.

"Oh, yeah, I know you are," Blaine whispered, then put an arm behind Kurt's shoulders and held him close. He stared at Kurt's lips and finally kissed him. It was a bit clumsy but heartfelt and Kurt responded by kissing back. He turned, his arms slipping around Blaine and holding him close as they kissed some more. While it wasn't a panicky kind of kiss, it wasn't too gentle either. They had made out several times and were accustomed to each other, so when Blaine started to kiss down Kurt's neck and along his collarbone, Kurt went along with it, stroking gently down Blaine's back.

"There you are," Dr. Anderson interrupted and Kurt jumped practically into Blaine's lap when he startled. Blaine held him tighter, not wanting Kurt to run.

"Yes, Mother?" he said.

"There were several of your friends wondering where you were, Blaine. It isn't polite to ditch them, darling," she said and turned to walk away, her trim figure in the modest bathing suit showing her devotion to physical fitness and good genes. She was a beautiful woman.

Kurt wanted to slide down under the water and disappear.

"Oh, my God, Blaine. She must hate me!" Kurt said with dread. He wanted Blaine's family to like him, but he was afraid he'd just ruined any chance he had of Dr. Anderson having any sort of charitable feelings towards him. He hung his head. This was never going to work.

"Its fine, Kurt. You would know if she didn't like you – there would be icicles hanging from your ears. That woman knows how to put on the deep freeze with anyone she doesn't like. Believe me, you'd know," Blaine told him, holding him close to calm him down.

"We better go back out there and mingle, okay?" Kurt said reluctantly. He was afraid the other boys and girls would shun him.

"Yeah, I guess we'll find other opportunities . . . " Blaine gave in. He got out of the hot tub and helped his boyfriend out, too. "Besides, this will be more fun when its only the two of us."

Kurt did a double take just as Blaine went out the gate to rejoin the party. Kurt stood still for a moment to catch his breath and then walked back to the pool, diving in to cool his hot face.

"It was a great party," Kurt told his host as most of the other boys were leaving. He'd thought he'd made some new friends among the Warblers: Eddie was smart, Trent shy, Wes a great guy to talk to, Jeff and Nick both jokers. Kurt could see why Blaine was so close to his fellow choir mates.

Dr. Anderson had gone back into the house after swimming with Blaine's friends and suddenly Kurt was the last one to leave.

"Oh, gosh, Blaine. I guess I'm that guy that overstays his welcome," Kurt says, buttoning his tropical print shirt. He began to gather his things, slipping on his sandals.

"No, Kurt. I wanted you to be here. With me. I told you, I miss you. You had fun in New York, didn't you? I thought we could continue that . . . " Blaine started to say when a thin shadow fell over the two.

"Still slumming, Blainey-Boy? I keep telling you – I'm here for you, for all your needs," Sebastian said, ignoring Kurt to stare at Blaine.

"No, I'm not slumming! Maybe you haven't gotten the hint, Mr. Smythe. I don't want to have any sort of romantic relationship with you. At all. I'm tired of all the sexual innuendo. I want Kurt and I have since the day I met him. So go home. Now." Blaine puffs out his cheeks and Kurt leaves, going back to the pool house to get his sunglasses he set down on a table there. He doesn't want anything to do with this anger that seems to have been stewing for a long, long time. Blaine needs to get things straight with Sebastain – but Kurt doesn't want or need to be there.

He gets into the Lincoln Navigator and starts the engine. A quick look at the gauge tells him he'll have to stop for gas again on the way home. He's been using a lot of gas, Westerville is a long way from his house in Lima. His cell lights up and vibrates, but he knows its Blaine and he is too uncomfortable right now to talk to him.

Kurt pulls out of the driveway and onto the frontage road, looking for a gas station as he starts home.

Just outside of Lima, Kurt limps his car into the Shell station. He's running on fumes and he knows his dad won't be too happy about that. He pulls up to the pump and puts his card into the reader. Its rejected. He walks into the station, asking the clerk to run it on her cash register, but the card is rejected. Kurt is about to cry when another clerk comes in from the back room.

"Kurt! Haven't seen you in a while. How's your summer going?" a tall blonde boy asks, leaning on the counter.

"Oh, Sam, good to see you. I just got back from New York, spent some time with a friend. How are you doing?"

They talk for a few minutes and Kurt tells him the problem: that apparently his debit card has a problem and he's out of gas. Sam hurries to hand his friend a twenty and Kurt promises to have the cash back to him in a few days.

The Navigator is gassed up and Kurt gets home just before nine o'clock. He comes into the den to find his dad reading and nursing a beer.

"Dad?" he says, almost reluctant to disturb him.

"Oh, Kurt. How was the party?" he asks, his smile evidence of how glad he is to see his boy.

"It was good. I had a good time. It was a good party," Kurt says, nervous for some reason.

"Good. Very good. So, how good was it?" Burt laughed and smiled when Kurt blushed.

"Now, tell me how it really was," Burt encouraged.

"It was really nice, I met some of Blaine's friends. I'd met a few before – they sing with the Warblers. Blaine was glad to see me, but he has this friend – well, acquaintance – Sebastian Smythe, who insists on making fun of me. He keeps asking Blaine why he's hanging around with the help, digging at me about my lack of high-brow status. It's awful," Kurt says, sitting down by his dad and snuggling into his side, smelling the comforting scents of Old Spice aftershave, a shadow of machine oil, and fabric softener in his flannel shirt. Burt's arm goes around his son, wishing with all his heart that he could protect his only boy from prejudice.

"Well, Kurt, I guess Blaine wasn't pleased at that, was he?" Burt asked.

"No, he got upset. I think they've been arguing for a long time – Sebastian wants Blaine for a boyfriend but Blaine wants nothing to do with that. They started to argue and I slipped out the back. I didn't want to be around that at all. I came home," Kurt explained, leaving off the part about him being Blaine's boyfriend now.

"Give Blaine a chance. It sounds like it isn't his fault, and he was defending you?"

"Yeah. Sebastian visited him in New York and there was the same issue. I don't understand what I did to antagonize Sebastian, he had been like this since I met him."

"Maybe he has other issues you know nothing about, buddy. We don't know what goes on behind closed doors. Just stay away from him when you can. I bet Blaine can help with that," Burt reassured Kurt. He gave him a hug and picked up his book.

"Anything else? You still look worried," Burt notices.

"Oh, yeah. I had to put gas in the Navigator – but my card was declined. Sam works at that gas station by the highway and he loaned me a twenty. I guess I'll have to go by the bank tomorrow to try and figure it out. Well, goodnight, Dad. Love you," Kurt says.

"Good night, son. Love you, too."

_Ring!_

"Blaine?" Kurt answers his cell. It is after ten, but not as late as last night.

"Hey. I tried to call you all evening but your cell was off. You left the party in such a hurry – is everything okay?" Blaine asks.

"Yeah. I was just in a hurry to get home to Dad. I haven't spent much time with him since I got back. I didn't want him to be alone tonight," Kurt says.

"Oh, I can respect that. I was just wishing we could have had a bit more time together. I'm sorry Smythe got in the way. You just disappeared. I threw him out and turned around – you were gone."

"It seemed personal, I didn't want to cause any more reason for him to be upset at you. I thought the polite thing would be for me to leave," Kurt said, now worried Blaine was upset with him. "I'm sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry about. Maybe I can see you tomorrow?" Blaine suggests, hope in his voice.

"I'm kinda busy. I need to weed the flowerbeds and mow the lawn. I'll talk to you tomorrow evening?" Kurt asks.

"Okay. I guess I need to practice my violin. I haven't done that in so long – since before the accident. Okay, I'll talk to you tomorrow. Bye for now."

"Bye."

Kurt hangs up and sits down heavily on his bed. He wants to be with Blaine, he loves being near him or kissing him, but he also doesn't want to lead Blaine on. He knows he isn't in the same social status and he learned from being at McKinley High that social status is everything. He doesn't want to take advantage of Blaine's kind heart to bring him down. With a great sigh, Kurt lays down on his bed and closes his eyes. Before he knows it, he's asleep.

* * *

"You Matter To Me" is from the 2016 Broadway musical **Waitress** by Sara Bareilles & Jessie Nelson.


	15. Summertime

**My Reader – Chapter Fifteen - Summertime**

Kurt had been up since dawn, dressed in old jeans and a T-shirt to work on the back yard. His dad wasn't able to do much in the way of gardening these days, his cardiac doctor had prohibited heavy lifting and Burt's arthritis kept him from a lot of the other chores. But Kurt didn't mind. It made more sense to him to work hard making the yard beautiful than it did to sweat in the gym – he got the same exercise.

It might be midsummer, but Kurt didn't want to neglect the flower beds and so he was planting some annuals: petunias, pansies, marigolds and snapdragons in the beds around the front walk. He was sweaty and dirty but it was satisfying to see the fruits of his labor in the brightly colored flowers.

"Look, it's the pansy planting pansies," came a mocking voice from the sidewalk as Kurt looks up to see Dave Karofsky and Azimio Adams standing there.

Knowing his dad wasn't home, Kurt made a snap decision to get back into his house before the bullies could catch him and he turned, running to gain the door before the two football players could move. He wasn't fast enough because they had anticipated Kurt's move and were quick enough to grab him.

Just as Kurt tensed his muscles to take a blow, ducking his head to avoid a concussion, there was a terrible roaring noise. The pain of being punched in the belly and back of the neck was accompanied by a simultaneous roar of a crazed animal and Kurt was imagining a bear or lion – something colliding with him as his grip on consciousness slipped away.

"Hey! Stop that!" came a shout as the huge dog barreled into Karofsky, pushing him over the porch railing and into the garden of rose bushes below. He was torn by the thorns and his howling could be heard down the block.

"Stop! Get him off of me!" Adams shouted, terrified as the dog showed his long teeth.

"Kurt!" Blaine shouted, rushing up the porch steps to rescue his boyfriend.

Chaos ensued as Macushla tried to leap over the railing to savage Karofsky, who was struggling to untangle himself from the rose thorns and Adams tried to run off the porch but was tripped by Blaine.

When the dust settled, the huge Irish wolfhound was growling at the two bullies – who were standing in a corner of the porch, afraid to move, while Blaine was pleading with Kurt to wake up.

"Stop, don't..." Kurt mumbled as he began to blink his eyes open. He saw Blaine and smiled a little bit, but then noticed Macushla holding his tormentors at bay.

"I've called the police," Blaine said, glaring at the football players, "I was waiting for you to wake up. I saw it all, Kurt, do you want an ambulance?"

"No, I'm okay. I've had worse," Kurt said, afraid the two boys would exact revenge on him later when there was no rescuer to defend him.

"Just sit still, I'll go get you a drink of water. Which way is the kitchen?" Blaine asked but went to find it for himself when Kurt gave him a blank stare.

The sirens could be heard coming around the end of the block. Karofsky and Adams cowered closer to the wall as the big dog looked more agitated.

"What's happening here?" the first policeman asked, coming up to the porch and seeing the dog and the boys.

"We were just walking along and this dog attacked us," Adams said, trying to feign innocence.

"They attacked me," Kurt said, then held his aching head.

The two policemen looked at each other, not sure who to believe.

"I can show you what happened," Blaine said in a soft voice as he came out of the house and handed Kurt a glass of water. He took his cell from his pocket and held it in front of the policemen, showing them the video he took as he ran up the front walk. It showed Karofsky and Adams as they first harassed Kurt and then assaulted him.

"That dog bit me! He needs to be shot!" Karofsky shouted, holding his bloody arms out.

"My dog didn't bite anyone. This guy fell into the rose bushes – those are scratches from the thorns," Blaine countered. The policeman looked and then reviewed the video that clearly showed Dave falling into the bushes.

"You two are under arrest for assault," the man said, handcuffing Adams as his partner did the same with Karofsky.

"We're going to need a copy of that video," the other officer said and helped Blaine send it to his own cell.

"Do you need an ambulance?" the first one asked Kurt but he declined.

It was all over in just a short time and Blaine was left sitting in the den on a sofa with Kurt in his arms and Macushla at his feet.

"Kurt, are those the guys that hurt you at the end of school, the ones that put you in the hospital with your bruised kidney?" Blaine asked.

"Yeah, they are. Homophobes," Kurt whispered, scared to say more.

"You need to file charges against them. I'll call my lawyer and we can get them punished," Blaine offered.

"No, they'll have even more reason to get back at me. Let's just let it go. I'm not hurt," Kurt said, looking at the floor.

"Kurt! You can't let them get by with that! They'll just do it to someone else, thinking its allowed. No, this needs to stop, right here and right now!"

"Blaine, you aren't the one vulnerable here, are you? You live in your ivory tower with guard dogs. I live in their neighborhood. Don't you get it?"

Blaine shut his mouth quickly and looked into Kurt's eyes – seeing all the pain and fear in them.

"I'm sorry. I guess I don't understand," he said softly, cupping Kurt's chin and leaning in to kiss him gently.

"No, and I'm glad you don't. It isn't easy living my life, but I'm glad you're safe from this," Kurt said.

Blaine was silent, he had no idea what to say, he'd never thought about what it might be like to be Kurt. But he was beginning to.

"Kurt? You left all the gardening tools on the front walk," Burt said as he came into the house for lunch. He was a little afraid of what he might find since his wife's prize rosebushes looked like they'd been crushed and there was blood spattered on the porch.

He was greeted by a huge dog, bounding up to him and madly wagging his tail.

"Cush, good to see ya, buddy," Burt said, surprized to see the dog in his house. "Blaine? Kurt?"

"In here, Dad," Kurt called, then held his hand to his temple as the pain from his headache increased.

"Kurt?" Burt asked as he came around the corner into the den. "Blaine."

"Hello, Mr Hummel," Blaine greeted him politely.

"What gives, Kurt? What happened?" Burt asked as his stomach dropped. He could see Kurt was hurt and he could guess who caused it.

The boys told Burt what had transpired and Blaine offered his lawyer. It surprized Kurt that Burt accepted Blaine's offer, Burt wasn't one for taking charity.

"But, Dad..." Kurt said, looking at his father with wonder.

"We're going to speak to a lawyer about this, Kurt. I won't have someone assaulting my own son in my yard. Kurt, you've been hurt before by these ruffians. I am not sitting still and let it go again. Enough said. Done." Burt stood up and left the room.

"Kurt?" Blaine asked, turning to put his arms around his boyfriend. He kissed the tears from Kurt's cheeks. "I'll be here for you, okay?"

"Thank you, Blaine."

**Later at the Anderson home. . .**

"Mother, may I have a few words?" Blaine asked.

"Of course. What's up?" Dr Anderson asked.

"I want you to see something," Blaine said and took out his cell phone. He handed it to his mother and pushed the button to play.

"That's Kurt, right?" she said, then furrowed her brows as she saw what her son had videoed. A quiet gasp, then she handed it back to Blaine.

"Thank heaven Macushla was there, and you also. What prompted this?" she asked.

"You know."

"I was afraid of that," she sighed. "You weren't hurt, were you?"

"No, Mother, I'm fine. The police came and took them away. I had to send them a copy of the video. I hope that's all, but I have a feeling this is not the end of it. The boy that fell in the rose bushes got pretty torn up, then he tried to blame Cush. I showed the video to the policemen and they saw it wasn't him. Who would mistake rose thorn scratches for wolfhound teeth anyway? The cop said they would take pictures and everything," Blaine related.

"I think young Kurt might need a lawyer. Perhaps Mr Duncan?" Dr Anderson suggested.

"You read my mind, Mother. I asked Mr Hummel if he could use a lawyer, I told him he could use ours. I don't think he can afford it though. . . "

"I'll take care of that. I wouldn't rest easy if I knew Kurt was in distress."

"Mother, there is something else about those boys," Blaine said, looking at his mother with his big, sad eyes. She could see the emotion in them and put a warm arm around her son.

"They . . . they're the ones that beat him up and bruised his kidney, remember he almost couldn't go to New York with me? It was them."

Blaine put his head down on his mother's shoulder and she hugged him tightly, patting his back.

"Its okay, Blaine. We'll do something. I will think of something."

Later that night, Blaine called Burt and spoke to him for a while. He gave him the information about the lawyer and also spoke about another idea. An agreement was made and Blaine felt a teeny bit better. He needed to go visit his uncle.

* * *

It was two weeks since the assault and Blaine had called Kurt that morning to see if he wanted company. Kurt, of course, was happy to see Blaine.

Blaine walked up the sidewalk to Kurt's door and rang the bell.

"Blaine!" Kurt grinned, pulling him inside. "I missed you," he said and started kissing his boyfriend who returned the affection enthusiastically.

"What are you up to today?" he asked, taking Kurt's hands in his own and lacing them together.

"I was going to work on the back yard. The garden needs weeding, why?" Kurt asked.

"Oh, I had an activity in mind, but that sounds fun. I love yardwork – I never get to do any at my house."

"With all of those gardens?" Kurt asked.

"We have a gardener, he doesn't appreciate my amateur attempts," Blaine laughed. "The most I can do is pick the fruit in the orchard. Which reminds me, do you like fruit? Peaches, apples, pears?"

"I love it, so does dad," Kurt smiled.

"I'll bring you some. But you might need to come with me, Sebastian's land is in back of my orchard and I don't need him to come over, you know?" Blaine laughed.

"Okay. I'll come keep you safe," Kurt grinned. He was determined to keep Sebastian away from Blaine.

"Speaking of keeping people safe – have those two bullies been around?"

"I haven't seen them, though I heard neither one is in jail. Their parents bailed them out. My dad has been talking to Mr. Duncan. Thank you for that, Blaine," Kurt said, kissing Blaine's cheek.

They turned to go out in the back yard. As Kurt was getting out the tools, Blaine said,"I need to run to my car to get something. I'll be right back."

He left through the gate and Kurt walked to the back of the yard where the flower beds needed some weeding. He was just getting ready to use the hoe when Blaine returned – with a huge wolfhound.

"Macushla!" Kurt started to say, but then looked closer. "That isn't Macushla!"

"No, it isn't. This is actually Cush's brother. His name is Phalan."

"Is he friendly?" Kurt asked because this dog didn't look as friendly as Cush. He stood still, between Blaine and himself, his hair bristled on his neck and his tail not wagging. He was scary.

"Careful," Blaine commanded and the dog set his feet and turned toward Kurt, his teeth showing just a bit.

"Jesus!" Kurt said, wanting to run but knowing better. He stood his ground but turned a little away from the dog and didn't look into its eyes.

"Friend, Phaelan, friend," Blaine commanded and the dog's whole demenor changed. He stopped bristling, he relaxed and stepped forward, tail wagging.

"What?" Kurt asked, surprised at the change in the dog.

"Go ahead, pet him. He's really very friendly when he gets to know you."

Kurt stepped forward very slowly, reaching out his hand, knuckles first. The big dog sniffed him and wagged his tail.

"Good dog," Kurt said, petting him under his huge jaws. He remembered that Blaine had told him a long time ago that dogs don't like to be petted on the top of the head, it could feel threatening. Phaelan seemed to like him.

"So why do you have Phaelan instead of Macushla today?" Kurt asked.

"Because he's yours."

Kurt did a double-take.

"He's what? My dad won't let me have a dog!" Kurt said.

"Yes, he will. I asked him. He agreed that you need to have a friend here to keep you company to protect you, and he said I couldn't move in," Blaine grinned. "I was going to loan you Cush, but then I remembered that my uncle had offered Phaelan to me. He was a show dog, but he's earned his championship and Uncle already has enough dogs. He was looking for a home for Phaelan becuase he's retired."

"Retired? How old is he?" Kurt asked.

"He's three, just like Cush. They were littermates."

Kurt looks over the huge dog again. He was a darker color than Cush and a bit bigger – if that were possible. He was heavier and seemed to just have bigger bones.

"Wow. Is he as easy to walk as Cush? He's so big!"

"Of course. Here, let's go for a walk over to that park that I pass on the way here?" Blaine asked.

"Sure. I'm sort of reeling here. I don't know...oh, thank you! Where are my manners? Thank you, Blaine, and thank your uncle for me. I love him. You know I love Macushla, so this will be wonderful."

"Speaking of Macushla, I need to get him out of the car. He's all cramped in there, two wolfhounds don't fit in a Prius very well," Blaine laughed.

They walked to the park, Macushla with Blaine and Phaelan with Kurt. As Kurt found out, Phaelan was obedience trained and would walk quietly at heel when told to. Macushla would, too, but not as easily. His mind wandered and he wanted to chase squirrels, but a sharp word from Blaine brought him back immediately. Kurt laughed.

They let the dogs run when they got to a field on the other side of the park, letting them exercise for a while before a whistle brought them back.

Walking home was nice, the breeze was kicking up and the sun was shining. They got to the edge of the park before they saw the two boys walking towards them. Azimio and Dave hadn't spotted the boys walking their dogs yet and Kurt thought he could maybe walk the long way around and avoid any contact.

He started to turn, but was too late. He heard a gasp and saw Dave and Azimio standing still, eyes big and round. He stopped and remembered the command Blaine had given.

"Careful," he said and Phaelan immediately changed – his hair bristled and he stared at the two football players, his teeth barely showing as he growled low in his throat.

Dave turned around first, taking off across the park, Azimio following closely behind.

Phaelan stared after them, growling deep in his throat.

"He'll remember. Its a good thing we ran into them. Phaelan is going to remember."

"Okay. He won't just bite them if he sees them, will he?" Kurt asked, wondering if he was going to have to try and pull the huge dog off of the bullies.

"No, not unless you tell him to. Even then I don't think he'll bite. He just isn't like that. He'll intimidate them, and I think that's enough. Those two are terrified of these dogs," Blaine said. "That's wrong, though. Irish wolfhounds are really sweet-tempered dogs. They may be big, but they're usually friendly."

"Just the same, I'm going to feel better knowing Phaelan is watching over me."

* * *

Kurt spent most of his waking moments with Phaelan, and the dog slept on the floor at the side of his bed. The big dog was friendly with Kurt and Burt, getting used to all of Kurt's friends: Puck, Finn, Quinn, Mercedes and all the other New Directions. They even got used to having Phaelan lying under the desk or in a corner as the group sang, keeping their voices in tune for next year. It was time they earned the top prize of the Nationals.

"Kurt, let's go picking the fruit in the orchard today. Most of it is ripe now and I was thinking of having a picnic?" Blaine said over the phone.

"That sounds great!" Kurt enthused.

"I'll come and pick you up in about an hour then?"

"What can I bring?" Kurt asked.

"Ah...some sort of side dish? I'll make sandwiches and lemonade."

"Great. I'll be ready to go in an hour."

The boys walked to a nice peach tree, spreading out an old wool Navy blanket in the shade. Blaine set down the picnic basket and a thermos of freshly made lemonade. Kurt uncovered the veggie platter – carrot sticks, celery, apples, jicama chips, tiny cherry tomatoes, and red pepper sticks. He uncovered a pot of hummus, looking at Blaine for approval. The smile on Blaine's face could be seen across the meadow.

"I love hummus!"

Kurt smiled back at him and set it on the blanket beside the veggie dippers. Blaine set out the ham sandwiches and commented that he wished it were lobster rolls, but lobster wasn't the same from a seafood place in Ohio.

"One day we'll go back to New York. I promise," Blaine said, looking into Kurt's eyes.

Kurt blushed and leaned forward to give his boyfriend a sweet but chaste kiss.

They ate lunch while watching Macushla and Phaelan run across the field, chasing each other and then resting in the warm sun. Both dogs suddenly stopped their play and turned, neck hair bristling and low growls that could be heard from 300 feet away. Blaine and Kurt looked up too someone approaching from the next orchard.

"Friend," Blaine said and both dogs immediately stopped their growls and let the boy approach.

"Sebastian, you're looking better," Kurt said in a friendly manner, impressed that he was not using crutches.

Sebastian smiled, though it was more at Blaine than Kurt.

"I'm doing better. This fresh air and warm climate are good for me. Looks like it's good for you, too, Blaine," he said, his eyes undressing his neighbor. Kurt frowned but wasn't going to make a big deal of it. He was sure of Blaine's love for him and the likes of Sebastian weren't going to shake his trust.

Sebastian did walk slowly but seemed steady enough as he invited himself to sit on the blanket with the boys.

"Would you like some hummus and vegetables or a ham sandwich?" Blaine offered, always the gentleman.

"Thank you. I should have brought dessert," he said, taking a half of a sandwich and some veggies on the plate Kurt offered.

After they ate, Blaine looked up and smiled. He remembered why they were in the orchard and got up, brushing off his jean shorts.

"I brought some bags for the fruit and there are ladders in the orchard if we need them," he said, helping Kurt to his feet and then they both took a hand and got Sebastian up, too.

"I need to get home, but it was nice to see you both. Maybe you'll have some time for me to visit this evening, Blainers?"

"No, not tonight. I'm going to Kurt's for supper," Blaine smiled, looking at Kurt with love light in his eyes. Sebastian was beginning to get the idea that Blaine was quickly being lost to him. He accepted defeat like a well-bred gentleman, reaching out a hand to shake with Kurt.

After he left, Blaine turned to Kurt.

"That was strange..." Blaine said, a worried frown on his face.

"No, it was just fine. Don't worry about it, babe. I doubt Sebastian will worry you again."

They spent the next two hours picking all manner of fruit from the trees: peaches, apples, pears, apricots, and nectarines. They they got buckets and picked cherries.

"The grapes aren't ripe yet, but they will be in about three weeks," Blaine explained.

"I think there is enough here to make a dozen pies. I can make them and freeze them – then we can eat them all winter," Kurt smiled. His dad loved fruit pies.

They walked hand in hand back to the large house.

* * *

" _Summertime"_ is from the 1934 play **Porgy & Bess** by George Gershwin.


	16. I Don't Know How To Love Him

Reader – Chapter Sixteen – I Don't Know How to Love Him

* * *

The summer moved on, taking it's time, and the boys spent most days together: baking pies, rolling in the meadow grass, or walking in the orchard so the dogs could stretch their legs. Summer seemed to last forever.

Until one day Kurt's schedule for his senior year arrived in the mail.

It kind of shocked him because he had just plain forgotten about school. He's had such a wonderful time with Blaine – first in New York and then this summer, it had been intoxicating and Kurt wasn't ready to let it go. He sat in his room, looking out into his back yard. He knew he had to tell Blaine, but he didn't know how to bring up the subject. He sighed and watched Phalen as he romped around the large yard.

**Ring!**

"Hello?" Kurt answered his cell.

"Hey, Babe, do you feel like coming over? Or I could come to your house?" Blaine asked instead of a greeting.

"Ahhh. Maybe, though I need to stay home and get some chores done first. The kitchen cupboards need to be emptied and cleaned out. Ditto my closet, it's not as if I had a huge room as my closet like you do," Kurt said with a bit of his jealousy showing through.

"Kurt, what is it? You're not acting like yourself. Is there something wrong?"

"I'm fine. Just fine. Exceptionally fine."

"Ah...Okay. You're fine. Can I come over to see your fine self?" he asked, getting a tetch worried. Kurt wasn't answering.

"Kurt?"

"I'm here, just figuring if I have time. I have a lot of cleaning to do today, so maybe tomorrow or Saturday. I'll talk to you then," Kurt said, hoping he could get a handle on his emotions before then. He sat down and for some reason he started to cry. He wasn't even sure why, except that maybe getting his schedule for McKinley was the catalyst.

Half an hour later, when Kurt had finally stopped sobbing into his pillow, he tried to get himself together. He put on his khaki cargo shorts and brown short-sleeved oxford cotton shirt. He had his hippo broach pinned to the front pocket, short khaki socks, and his suede loafers.

He'd had a shower and was feeling a bit better, though he wasn't at his best, to say the least.

Upon opening the door to go outside, Kurt had his arms full of excited boyfriend.

"Blaine! Blaine, calm down," Kurt admonished, setting him down and closing the front door. His neighbors got enough news, they didn't need to be privy to more of Kurt's life than they already were. He rolled his eyes as he saw snoopy Mrs Patterson close her curtains as Blaine entered the Hummel residence.

"Come, sit down with me," Blaine said, taking Kurt's hand to pull him into the den. He sat down on the recliner and pulled Kurt into his lap.

"You're dad's at work, isn't he?" Blaine asked, a sweet smile gracing his lips.

"Yes, of course he is. He'll be home at six like always. Why?"

"I didn't want to be in his chair when he got here, that would be rude," Blaine said, his eyes bright as he looked at Kurt. He smiled again.

"Okay, I guess that makes sense," Kurt replied absently. His unhappy feelings were permeating him and he didn't want it to spill over on Blaine.

Blaine put his arms around Kurt, holding him tightly as he nudged his boyfriend's head down closer so he could kiss him. It started out chaste but evolved into hot kissing with a lot of humming and groans.

Kurt pulled Blaine over to the leather sofa, coaxing him to lie down and kiss Kurt properly. They stayed there, doing just that, for a long time, finally cuddling together with Blaine snuggled so close to Kurt's chest that he had to stretch his neck back to talk to him. He shifted a bit to give himself some room to move his hands while he spoke.

"As fun as this is - and it is the best kind of fun – I didn't come here just to make out with you, Kurt. I came to find out why you were so testy on the phone. Did I do something to upset you?" Blaine asked, wracking his brain to see if he remembered doing something wrong.

"No, of course not! No, you're fine," Kurt rushed to tell him, giving him another kiss to show him there were no hard feelings.

"Okay, but you were pretty upset on the phone. What's up?" Blaine asked, then noticed Kurt's eyes darting over to an envelope on the coffee table. Ah-hah.

Blaine sat up, taking Kurt with him and settling the both of them on the sofa.

He looked over, seeing the return address on the envelope as McKinley High logo on the upper left corner of the envelope. Kurt's name was printed on the center of the front side. Bad news? Didn't he get the classes he wanted?

"Okay, let's talk about the elephant in the room. What's in the envelope?" Blaine asked.

Kurt sighed. He knew his eyes were still red from his useless crying. Blaine was no idiot, he could tell that his boyfriend was upset. Kurt felt he had to confide in him.

"That is my new class schedule. I'm going to be interred in McKinley once again. I can't take Phalen to school with me, and those bullies have a big reason to hate me now. I'll be vulnerable. I've been mapping the safest routes from one class to another, trying to avoid any of that bunch. Unfortunately, I have Glee in the middle of the day and the hall to the choir room runs right past the gym. I'll be a sitting duck."

Kurt sniffed, trying his hardest not to tear up.

Blaine did what his intuition told him to do: he pulled Kurt into his arms and held him tightly.

"I'll do my best to come up with a solution. Maybe we can get the New Directions to meet with you somewhere to escort you to the choir room?" Blaine suggested.

"I don't think any of them care enough to do that for me," Kurt said, his face serious.

"Well, I'll think of something..." Blaine said, knowing he had some hard thinking to do that night. School at McKinley started in two weeks.

**Back home at the Anderson house**

"What are you mooning around about, Blaine?" Dr. Anderson asked her son, a concerned wrinkle on her forehead.

"It's about Kurt," he mumbled as he walked through the library to return a book and select a new one.

Margaret waited for him to come back by the chesterfield sofa she was sitting on, her legs tucked under her as she read a book.

"Come sit by me," she asked, putting her feet on the floor and making room beside herself for Blaine to sit. He came over, snuggling next to her. The smell of the leather sofa mixed with the floral perfume his mother used combined to make him relax in the familiar comfort of it all.

"Now, you've seemed so happy all summer - until this morning when you came back from the Hummel house. What's wrong?" she asked.

"Nothing, I guess," Blaine said in his sullen tone – the one he used when his father canceled another plan with him.

"Did you and Kurt have a falling out? That happens sometimes. I bet you can mend it though. Nobody is better than you at making someone feel good about themselves," Margaret said, hoping Kurt might come around and be friends with Blaine once again. He was so much better than that over-sexed Eddie-Haskell-clone, Sebastian.

"No, Mother, we didn't argue. It's harder to deal with than that," he said, looking at the marble tiles below his feet.

"Do you want to tell me? A burden shared is a burden halved," she quoted.

" 'Share a joy and it will double, but sharing halves any trouble.' Yes, I know. I don't know if that will apply in this case, but I'll tell you anyway," Blaine said, giving his mother a sweet smile. He explained Kurt's dilemma, reminding her of what the bullies had done last year and again this year as Blaine came upon them at Kurt's house. Lucky for them, Macushla was with him and stopped the bullies.

"Yes, sweetheart, I do remember. It's why my brother gave you Phalen – to give to Kurt. I'd ask how he's doing but Kurt brought the dog with him last week and I could see for myself that Phaelen is thriving," Margaret said, smiling at Blaine.

"I want to help, but I just don't know what to do," Blaine sighed. "Maybe it's time for Kurt to face his own problems, but these are mighty steep problems and the staff at the school is not helpful. As a matter of fact, they go out of their way to ignore what's happening. They basically told him that because he's gay, that's what he can expect out of life so he might as well get used to it," Blaine said, his heart beating fast and his face flushing.

Margaret sat still on the sofa, reaching over to try and comfort her son. His heart was so big, she worried about him sometimes. She needed to do something to help him.

"Mother, I was thinking...maybe Kurt could get a scholarship to Dalton? You could offer it to him based on his grades. He's always on the honor roll at school and sings in the New Directions, so I think he'd be an asset to Dalton, don't you think?" Blaine pled his case. He had been thinking of a way to ask his mother this for a few weeks and this was the perfect opportunity.

"All of the scholarships for this year have been awarded, Blaine. I can't just give them away to whomever I please, there are guidelines and rules," Margaret said, looking a bit stern.

"But Mother, Dalton is your school, you control it. You can do anything you want!" Blaine's voice got pitchy as he grew a bit desperate. This was the only solution he could think of.

"Now, Blaine, calm down. Kurt has survived every year of schooling so far without your interference. I think he is clever enough to get through this one. It's almost time to eat; why don't you go up to your room to wash up and change for supper."

Blaine closed his eyes. His mother made it perfectly clear to him that this was not going to work, she'd made up her mind. He'd see the sun rise in the west before she would change her mind. He sighed under his breath and went to his room.

It wasn't until he'd closed his door and walked over to the balcony that he let the tears come. His eyes burned and his breath caught in his throat. He had to find a way to help Kurt.

**A week later...**

"I heard from your father this afternoon," Margaret shared with Blaine as they sat at the long mahogany table for supper.

Blaine took another spoonful of his vichyssoise, trying to sort through his feelings. The cold potato soup was usually one of his favorites but he didn't have any appetite this evening. Kurt's problem was still foremost in his mind.

He was glad for his mother's sake that his father had called her. He knew she missed him, even though she rarely said so. But he was still very upset that his dad left New York without bothering to say goodbye except in a voice mail. Honestly, who did that – to their son?

"He and I had quite a conversation, actually," she continued, looking over to see what Blaine's reaction would be.

She and Linden had a frank discussion about Blaine. Margaret was worried that he was getting too close to Kurt. She liked the polite young man, but Blaine was getting too close in her opinion. She worried that he would abandon his schoolwork in his emotional upset with Kurt's unhappy circumstances.

She could have granted Kurt a scholarship – it was entirely within her power to do that – but she wanted her son to pay attention to his academic career instead of his romantic dreams. She told Linden and he reluctantly agreed. It didn't take much arguing on her part to put plans in place.

"How is father?" Blaine asked out of obligation.

"He is doing fine, setting up the City of Literature for the opening celebration," Margaret said, smiling at her son. He might have a crush on Kurt Hummel, but this would nip that in the bud.

"Blaine," she said, her eyes twinkling with anticipation as she readied herself to grant what she thought would be a wish come true for her younger son.

"You are going to spend the school year with your father, in Iceland!"

Blaine sat as if he'd been turned to stone, his eyes wide and his mouth open.

"What?"

"You are going to Iceland to spend the year with your father, dear. Are you excited?" she asked, remembering how going to France last year made him jump in delight. He could hardly contain himself as he hugged her and danced around the dining room. The trip to Paris had been cruelly cut short with his accident and he ended up coming home after a month with his father.

This time he wasn't dancing.

"No. I can't go all the way to Europe! It's...it's my senior year, mother, I need to spend it with my friends!" he protested.

"We have arranged to have you fly to Reykjavik on Monday; that gives you four days to pack. You will be home for graduation in June, son. I've already spoken to the school board superintendent. Dr Michaels thought it was a great idea."

Blaine bunched up his napkin and dropped it on the table.

"Excuse me, Mother."

"But Blaine! We're having roast leg of lamb for supper, your favorite . . . " she called to him as he rushed away.

He turned and ran for the stairs, Macushla on his heels. The boy threw himself on his bed and curled his arms around his pillow, burying his face in the softness. His tears came hot and heavy while Cush tried to burrow under his arms and lick his face.

"Oh, Cush...what am I going to do?" Blaine lamented. This was a disaster.

**Kurt's house, the next day . . .**

"Blaine, what's wrong? You look like you've been crying..." Kurt said, holding his arms out for Blaine to cuddle into.

They sat on Kurt's bed, Blaine laying his head on Kurt's shoulder and digging his handkerchief out of his back pocket to wipe his eyes for the hundredth time today.

"How long until your dad gets home?" Blaine asked, his eyes looking deep into Kurt's.

"He and Carol went to the big car show over in Indiana. They won't be home until the day after tomorrow. Why? Did you need something from him?" Kurt asked.

"No, just curious," the curly-haired boy said, his arms holding Kurt closer.

He sat up, taking a good look at his boyfriend. He wanted to remember him exactly the way he was right now, with his twinkling blue-gray eyes and wide smile. Kurt was wearing the T-shirt Blaine had bought for him when they went to the mall a few weeks ago. It was red, Blaine's favorite color. He got it because Kurt couldn't stop laughing at what it said: "IF YOU CAN'T SAY ANYTHING NICE, SAY IT IN FRENCH".

"Kurt, I...I need to talk to you. It's serious..." Blaine whispered, losing his courage to tell him the devastating news.

"What's wrong, baby?" Kurt asked, a million things going through his head. "Is your mother okay?"

"Yes, yes, she's fine."

Kurt sat still and just looked at his boyfriend.

"First, I have something for you," Blaine said, taking a box out of his pocket. He held it up for Kurt to see and put it in his hands.

Kurt's eyes got big, it was obviously a ring box.

"If that's my engagement ring, the answer is 'YES'," he said, laughing.

"No, not an engagement ring...just open it," Blaine smiled.

Kurt opened the tiny box to find a silver ring with a large blue stone. He looked questioningly at Blaine.

"I found that agate at the beach on Long Island when we were there and it reminded me of your eyes. It's a friendship ring, Kurt, so you'll never forget me."

"Oh, Blaine...it is beautiful. I love it. And I love you!" Kurt threw his arms around Blaine, pulling him close and kissing him.

"So...you like it?" Blaine asked.

"Of course I do. As if I could ever forget you." Kurt took the ring out and put it on his ring finger where it fit perfectly.

"I had to guess at the size, I'm glad it fits. Promise you won't ever take it off," Blaine said, a bit too seriously. It worried Kurt, but he decided to let it go. Blaine had been emotional all day and Kurt just wanted to calm him down.

"I was waiting for Christmas, but I think this is the perfect time to give you a present, too," Kurt said as he turned to rummage through his drawer. He brought out a small box he had stashed away in the drawer. He handed it to Blaine who opened it.

"Oh, Kurt..."

"I found that piece of sea glass the same day and put it away to surprise you. I guess great minds really do think alike, don't they?" Kurt laughed. "Here. Let me put it on you."

He picked up the blood-red piece of sea glass that he'd had made into a necklace. It wasn't as fine a silver as the ring, maybe, but it meant just as much to Blaine – who clutched it in his hand and held it close to his heart.

The boys sat back on the bed to watch a movie, but were soon distracted with kissing and touching. Kurt laid Blaine back on the bed, his head on the pillow. He kissed his cheek and then down to his jaw where he knew Blaine was ticklish. He smiled as he moved his lips around to the side of his head, just under his small, neat ear where the skin was so tender.

"Oh, gods, Kurt...I love you," Blaine whispers in Kurt's ear.

"I love you, too," Kurt said back, still wondering at Blaine's intensity today.

Blaine unbuttoned his shirt, looking up at Kurt to make sure this was okay. It wasn't the first time they'd been naked together, but he was still stepping carefully. If they were going to be apart for such a long time, Blaine wanted to remember this.

Kurt, as yet unaware of the pending separation looming over them, removed his own clothes and slipped into his bed beside Blaine. The incredible feeling of skin touching skin brought a gasp from Kurt as their stomachs touched first, then everything down to their knees. He threw his arms around Blaine to bring their chests together, too.

Blaine closed his eyes to analyze all the feelings. He wanted to remember this. He sniffed as he kissed Kurt's neck, loving the scent of his cologne. He knew what it was – 'Rain' by Marc Jacobs. He'd gone to the department store yesterday to buy a bottle of the cologne for himself so he could take it to Iceland with him. He tried to mentally shake himself; this wasn't as if Kurt was dying – he was just going to be away from him for a while. Kurt would stay with him, he was sure. Pretty sure, anyway.

"Do you...do you need more?" Kurt asked, not sure what the next step might be. They'd done hand jobs in New York and as good as that felt, Kurt was sure there was more to explore.

"How about I try something and you let me know if it's too much?" Blaine offered. Kurt nodded and kissed him once more before Blaine ducked under the blanket and began kissing Kurt's chest, working his way slowly down to his naval. There was soft hair leading down his belly and Blaine rubbed his nose in it, making Kurt tremble.

"What is it, Kurt? Are you afraid of me?"

"No, no...just, just anticipation I think," he whispered back, afraid to speak louder and shatter the atmosphere.

Blaine gives him a pat on the hip and continues closer to his goal. It's a mere few minutes before Kurt feels a warm mouth covering his cock and his slight tremble turns into a shiver.

"I can stop if you like?" Blaine asks as he backs off, wiping his mouth with his forearm. He was pretty apprehensive to begin with, but Kurt's skin tastes warm and good. The texture of his skin is softer than he'd imagined and he likes it.

"No, Blaine, don't stop. I'm okay, Don't stop."

The feeling continues and Blaine stops again, looking up at Kurt through his eyelashes.

"You can come in my mouth, Kurt. Don't hold back, I want it, okay?" he says, then goes back to slowly licking Kurt and making needy noises as he closes his lips around Kurt's girth.

Kurt lies still except for his hips pushing forward in little thrusts. He's trying to reign the movement in but he can't help doing it just a little bit as the warmth rises up in his hips and belly. He's never felt anything as good as this, not even the handjob back in the hotel room.

"Blaine...oh, god, Blaine..." he whimpers, trying to be quiet and not startle Blaine, still a bit nervous to have his cock so close to teeth. It isn't long before the warmth turns to heat and then he knows he's so close.

"OH, Blaine...I'm...I'm..." he says before his orgasm crashes through his veins and into his head as the intense pleasure courses through his cock. He is close to passing out but touches Blaine's forehead to tell him to stop. When he opens his eyes, he's in Blaine's arms, breathing hard and blinking.

"You okay?" Blaine asks, his eyes a darker shade of brown than usual, his pupils dilated.

"I have never been better in my life," Kurt says and kisses Blaine, forgetting where Blaine's mouth had just been. He jumped, surprised at the taste.

"Oh, Kurt – you don't like it? It's you, ya know," Blaine chuckles.

"No, it's...okay? I was just surprised."

He hides his red cheeks in Blaine's neck.

After a while, when Kurt's heart is slowed down enough for him to take a breath, he kisses Blaine's cheek.

"Would you like me to return the favor?"

"Actually, I was thinking we might get some dinner? I was thinking we could get delivery? It's on me," Blaine offered. "We can finish the movie we didn't watch."

Kurt agreed for now, but asked if Blaine could spend the night.

"Yeah, I'd love to."

After a dinner of Korean noodles and grilled vegetables, they watched a police drama for a while.

"I'm tired and I'd rather be holding you under the blankets, babe," Blaine whispered into Kurt's ear as he kissed down his neck.

"Okay," Kurt readily agreed. He was still feeling stimulated from his afternoon of being so close to Blaine. He turned on the stereo, tuning the radio to a station they both liked, and stripped down to his briefs before climbing in bed with Blaine.

* * *

"I Don't Know How To Love Him" is from the Broadway hit of 1970, 'Jesus Christ Superstar' by Andrew Lloyd Webber and Tim Rice.


	17. Soft Light and Sweet Music

Reader – Chapter Seventeen – Soft Light and Sweet Music

* * *

Kurt was confused. Blaine was never this clingy. He'd been right next to Kurt all evening, holding his hand, putting an arm around him, staring into his eyes. Kurt was beginning to get rather nervous.

"Okay, Blaine, spill. Now," Kurt demanded. They were lying in his bed and the lights were out – the moon casting its silvery light in the open window.

"I won't be here for you this year," Blaine said, tears beginning as his eyes stung with emotion.

"I know we'll be in different schools, but we can visit after school and we'll have weekends together. We'll make it work. You'll see." his boyfriend reassured him, giving Blaine a kiss as if to prove it. For just a few seconds Blaine leaned closer to Kurt – then caught himself and stayed where he was. He had to get through this and touching Kurt would short circuit everything.

"No, I'm not going to Dalton, babe. I'm going to Reykjavik." Blaine said with a sadness that went right through him. He rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous habit he'd developed while on the debate team.

"Where?" Kurt asked in a whisper. "Is Reyk...is that another school?"

Blaine just looked at him. He could see Kurt struggling with the information. The knowledge came to Kurt but he fought it, shaking his head.

"You're...you're moving to...Iceland?" he asked. He couldn't be any more shocked if Blaine had said he was moving to Never-Never Land to live with Peter Pan.

"My parents have it all arranged. I leave on Monday," Blaine said before he let the tears flow.

Kurt just sat still, soaking in the knowledge.

"How long have you known? Why didn't you tell me?" He snapped, his look of betrayal hurting Blaine to the quick.

"I just found out last night. I didn't want to tell you on the phone."

"Is your house for sale? Are you all gone for good then?" Kurt asked, the blood draining from his face.

"No, just me. I am to spend the year with my father. He's stationed in Reykjavik for the year doing the City of Literature for UNESCO. He wants me to join him there."

"It's a great opportunity, Blaine. I'm a bit jealous," Kurt forced out of his mouth. He smiled but it didn't fool Blaine. He knew Kurt too well.

In an effort not to fall apart completely, Blaine took Kurt in his arms and held him while Kurt dissolved in tears, clinging to Blaine as he sobbed.

This was a disaster.

A long time later, Kurt picked up his phone as it rang.

"Dad?"

"Kurt, I'm just checking in as I said I would. Carol and I are getting ready for bed at the hotel." Burt said as he smiled. "Boy, did we see some cars today! An original Woody van from the 1930s, a 1923 LaSalle, a rare Cord sportster thoroughly restored...Kurt? Are you there? Is everything okay?" Burt's voice came down the line, big and brave and strong enough for Kurt to know that his dad would be there for him, no matter what.

"Yeah, Dad, I'm here. Did they have a '57 Chevy?" Kurt knew that was his dad's favorite car.

"I haven't seen one yet but I know there are several there. We're going to look at more tomorrow," Burt said. "You didn't answer my question, son. Is everything alright? Do I need to come home?"

"No, Dad. I'm fine. You stay there with Carol and Finn and have fun. I just had some shocking news I guess. I will see you on Sunday night, right?" Kurt asked, holding his tears at bay. He glanced down at Blaine and saw those honey colored eyes looking back, full of love.

"What? Is everything alight? Did something happen at school already? Have those bullies come back? I swear, Kurt, I'm going to take the law into my own hands..." Burt growled.

"No, Dad. It's about Blaine. He's going to Iceland. Monday. His mother is forcing him to go live with his dad for a year."

"Wow, Kurt. I don't even know what to say. We can talk about this on Sunday – or now if it would help you," Burt's voice was warm with love.

"I'm okay, Dad. We can talk on Sunday. I love you, Dad," Kurt said, letting a few tears slide down his pale cheek. Could a person cry so much they ran out of tears?

"Good night, buddy. I'm here if you need me or if you just want to talk. I promise."

Kurt hung up the cell and tossed it back on the nightstand beside his bed. He turned to Blaine in the moonlight and snuggled closer to him, arms around his neck.

"Oh, Kurt. I am so, so sorry. I don't want to go. They think that because my trip to France was cut short that I would jump at the chance to go to Reykjavik. I don't even know what there is to do in Iceland. It doesn't sound very hospitable, does it?"

"You can wear a sweater every day, turn it into an opportunity for fashion. I could knit you one?" Kurt tried to smile.

Blaine held on to his red sea glass necklace, staring at Kurt's hand for a moment at the blue agate ring he'd given him – reminders of their trip to New York together. Maybe they could run away together? No, bad idea. Blaine sighed and bent to kiss Kurt's neck.

They kissed for a long time, neither getting tired of finding new and exciting places to nibble or lick. Kurt bit Blaine's neck and was fascinated by his ear. His ears were neat and close to his head, small and perfectly sculptured. Kurt grazed his lips over the tender skin and loved the shiver he felt in Blaine's body.

As for Blaine, the inside of Kurt's knee made his boyfriend jump and an erotic squeak came out. Blaine filed that away for further exploration one day. Blaine got great joy in getting a reaction to blowing air at the tender skin between ear and jaw.

While he was busy with that, his hand was creeping down Kurt's stomach. Fingers stroking and rubbing and exploring. He had just breached the elastic of Kurt's boxer briefs when he was stopped by Kurt's hand in a tight grip on his wrist.

"No." Kurt said abruptly, then searched Blaine's eyes for anger – but all he saw was hurt.

"Why, Kurt? It's our last night together, your folks are out of town – it's the perfect night."

"No, Blaine. I love you, you know that, but we can't complicate this with sex. I want you, more than you know, but we can't throw ourselves around just because circumstances are ripe. We have to keep our heads. Okay?" Kurt pleaded. He backed up a few inches and Blaine looked like a wounded animal, his liquid brown eyes expressing such sadness that Kurt gasped a little.

"You don't love me," Blaine said, his eyes looking anywhere but at Kurt.

"Don't be silly, Blaine. Of course I love you! Don't I say it enough?" Kurt countered, his eyes taking on a deeper hue as blood rushed to his cheeks. He rolled his eyes in frustration.

"It won't matter pretty soon anyways, they're dragging me off to the end of the earth, to a proverbial ice flow to freeze and die."

"Blaine, it won't be that bad. You're going to be with your dad again. Aren't you glad about that at least?" Kurt asked, resuming kissing Blaine, starting with the skin under his ear. He could never resist that.

"You know they filmed part of Game of Thrones there? In Iceland," Blaine said in an attempt to interest Kurt in the place. "They are taking me North of the Wall. I'll have two choices: to dress in all black, become celibate, and sit on the Wall with all the other Crows," Blaine said, his eyes dull now, "or become a Wildling and be on the run the rest of my days."

"Oh, Blaine, don't think of it like that. You will be so busy exploring and bonding with your dad that you won't even miss me," Kurt tried to reassure his boyfriend – and himself. "But...you won't forget me, will you?"

"Kurt! How could I ever forget you? I love you, you know. Will you wait for me?" Blaine pleaded, his worry showing on his face. He rubbed the back of his neck one more time before Kurt took his hand and held it in his own warm hands to keep Blaine still.

"I will. You should know that – and I love you, too," he whispered before leaning closer and rubbing his nose along Blaine's neck right below his cute little ear. Blaine smiled a little bit because that spot kind of tickled.

Later that night, Kurt was watching as Blaine tried to fall asleep. They had talked about how they'd get in touch with each other while Blaine was in Iceland and what to do if the internet connections weren't good.

"Blaine, stop worrying. I can feel you twitching. Reykjavik is a modern European city – they are bound to have all the latest technology, okay?" Kurt encouraged him.

"Yeah, I suppose you're right. They wouldn't be voted a City of Literature if they didn't have proper facilities. I just worry," he whined.

"Stop being Eeyore. I like it better when you're Tigger – bouncing all over creation," Kurt laughed as he tried to tickle his boyfriend. Blaine was not ticklish, at least nowhere Kurt had yet found.

Blaine was almost asleep when he felt Kurt moving around in the bed. He stopped to try to figure out what was going on when he felt lips kissing him down his chest and across his stomach.

"Kurt?"

No answer as the taller boy moved down further and Blaine felt a warm hand cup his balls gently and move them in their sac. It felt amazing.

"Mmmmmm..." Blaine moaned.

Kurt licked a stripe up the underside of Blaine's cock, soliciting a deeper groan as his lips and tongue explored the skin and muscles.

"Oh, Blaine...your foreskin is as thin and delicate as your eyelids," Kurt muttered, his curious tongue returning to it's adventure. He opened his mouth to see how much he could fit in his mouth. Quite a lot it turned out as Blaine got noisier. It was a very good thing that Burt and Carol were at the car show in Indiana.

"Lick harder..." Blaine instructed.

"MmmmHmmm," Kurt agreed and pushed his tongue harder against the stiff muscle. He started to move his head up and down, sucking in and using his tongue as he went. He'd curled his lips around his teeth to keep from scraping Blaine as he got faster.

"Yes...oh, gods, Kurt...yes," Blaine muttered to himself as he got more excited. He tried to tangle his fingers in Kurt's hair but arousal was no friend to his manual dexterity and he ended up pulling the hair between his fingers. Kurt winced with the sudden pain but didn't let it deter him from his goal.

"So close, baby, so close..." Blaine said and Kurt's hand cupped his balls once again. The sudden movement was the last straw and Blaine was climaxing. Kurt sputtered at the unanticipated force of Blaine's ejaculation, but he caught himself and sealed his lips back around Blaine's cock to help him through the orgasm. He found that Blaine was just as eager to return the favor.

"Kurt...oh, Kurt...come here, baby," he cooed, holding out his arms. "So ~ you're okay with oral sex but nothing further?" Blaine asked, his eyes big as he looked into Kurt's.

"We have the rest of our lives, don't we? Why hurry? I plan to be with you for a long, long time, Mr. Anderson," Kurt said in complete sincerity.

Kurt sat up and took the glass of water beside the bed, drinking it dry before cuddling with his love. Once they were next to each other, arms holding them together, Kurt said, "I love you" to Blaine as he kissed along his shoulder.

"Are you worried that I don't love you, Kurt? Do you need me to reassure you again?" Blaine asked, worried.

"No, Bee. I don't say that I love you just so I can hear you parrot it back to me. I tell you I love you so you'll never forget it while you're so far away," Kurt whispered, trying to keep the sting in the back of his eyes from becoming tears. He lost the fight as a single hot tear came down his cheek.

"It won't be forever, my love. Maybe I can come home for Christmas? That would be so good..." Blaine said, yawning once again.

He fell asleep, his head on Kurt's shoulder, his trust heavy in Kurt's heart.

* * *

Blaine was gone.

Kurt stood in the airport watching the plane as it banked and slowly turned to fly towards the rising sun. It was as if a piece of his heart was torn away and was flying off to parts unknown. He turned and felt his dad's hand curl around his shoulder. They walked a few steps before Burt let go.

"Thank you for coming to see my son off on his trip today," Margaret said, smiling at Kurt and his father. "You are a lucky boy to have your father in your life. Hopefully Blaine will come to know that, too."

Kurt felt a bit guilty at that statement: he wanted his boyfriend to stay here with him but he also knew that Blaine needed time to bond with his dad. He tried to smile at Dr. Anderson.

"Yes, I'm glad they are getting this opportunity," Kurt heard himself say.

Dr. Anderson held out her hand to shake Kurt's and then Burt's before excusing herself. It was the beginning of a new school year at Dalton and she had things to do.

"Nice to see you again," Burt told her before shaking her hand.

"And you, Burt," she said before leaving, her heels clicking as she walked away.

"Let's eat at one of these fancy places along here," Burt offered, indicating the row of restaurants in the airport.

"Sure, Dad," Kurt agreed, his interest waning as he thought about how far away Blaine was already. He sighed and tried to rally himself. Just because he was heartbroken didn't give him an excuse to let his foul mood affect his father.

They chose a replica of a 1950s diner and Kurt helped his dad find some healthy food options that Burt would like to try. Kurt ordered a Cobb salad and Burt got a club sandwich. Kurt tried to keep up his half of the conversation, but it was hard.

**Back at Dr. Anderson's office at Dalton School...**

Margaret was going to miss Blaine. He'd been gone most of the summer: first to New York to have his surgery and then almost daily visits to Kurt's house. He needed to be near his dad for a while before that bond would be broken.

Linden was a good dad, at least he used to be. He went to all of Cooper's Little League games, school events, and other things. Then he started working for UNESCO and his attention was divided between his family and his career. For a few years she and Cooper followed him from city to city, living in rented houses and switching schools for Cooper. Although the bright and friendly boy did well, Margaret knew it was a hard childhood.

When she discovered she was pregnant once again, she put her foot down and moved home to Ohio. Cooper was fourteen and being in a stable environment might be good for him. She and Linden found a school for sale – Dalton Academy was a school with a long history but it had fallen on hard times. With her ideas and direction, and a shot of Anderson money to bring it back to life, Dalton was revived and the teachers and students applied in droves. She had to set higher standards and limit classes. The dorms were renovated and boarding students came form all over the world.

It was a big responsibility but just the type of challenge in which Margaret excelled. It was a setback when Linden went back to his job at UNESCO, but she wasn't all that surprised and took it all in her stride.

Today had been hard. Blaine came back from Kurt's house with dragging steps and sad face. Although he had stopped begging her to let him stay, his every feature showed his displeasure in being forced to go to Reykjavik. She told herself that he would be happy once he landed, but it was difficult to convince herself. Blaine was a very sensitive boy and this seemed to hit him pretty hard. He must be more in love with Kurt than she had originally thought.

She had made certain promises to Linden concerning letting Blaine stay there for a school year and she couldn't go back on her word. Although she had many pressing things she needed to get done, she found herself closing her eyes and seeing her youngest son's sad face. It just about broke her heart.

She made an executive decision. Once made, Margaret wasn't one to sit and weigh why she'd done it or if she should change her mind. No, she acted on it. She called her secretary into the office and set the paperwork in place, then dictated a letter. By the end of the day she was calling Mr. Hummel to see if she could come by this evening.

**Hummel House**

"It's good to see you, Dr. Anderson. Come in and make yourself at home," Burt greeted her. He'd told Kurt that she was dropping by this evening and he asked his son to be on his best gentlemanly behavior. He knew the resentment Kurt had for Blaine's mother and he didn't want him to burn any bridges.

She followed Burt into the dining room and sat where he indicated. She'd asked for a table when she called earlier.

"Hello again, Dr. Anderson," Kurt said with little enthusiasm.

"Ah, Kurt. Please join me. We have things to discuss," she said, smiling at him.

Kurt sat next to his father and leaned on his shoulder just a bit. He needed to feel his dad's strong presence right now. He had his first day at school looming ahead of him and Puck had told him that both Karofsky and Azimio were out of juvie and would be there at McKinley the first day.

"Kurt, I came to congratulate you in person. The award for excellence has been given to twelve outstanding students this year and you are not only one of the finalists, you have been awarded a full-year scholarship to Dalton Academy for Boys," she told him.

Burt stared at his son, then at Margaret. This was the first he was hearing about this award.

"Kurt?"

"Ah...what? I didn't apply for any scholarship..." Kurt said with a bewildered face. He looked at Dr. Anderson.

"I have your application right here..." she said, producing it. Kurt took the papers from her and looked them over.

"This is Blaine's handwriting. He must have...?"

"Yes, I believe he helped you to fill them out. No rules against that. I have your school records attached, they were faxxed over from...McKinley High School from a Miss Pillsbury. Everything is there, Kurt. We had an unusual amount of applicants this year but your record spoke for itself. The scholarship is yours."

"Mine? I'm going to Dalton?" Kurt seemed to still be amazed.

"School starts a week after public school, so you have an extra week to get prepared. You'll need to make an appointment at the tailor's to be fitted for your uniforms: you will have 4 pairs of trousers, six white shirts, four ties, two blazers, and two sweater vests. Here is your welcome packet that outlines what is expected of a Dalton student.

"There is a meeting set up for you to meet your counselor to discuss your academic year and here is your dorm assignment," Margaret said, handing over the paperwork.

"Now, I think I need to get my head wrapped around this, Dr. Anderson," Burt said, waking up to what was going on. His son had won a prestigious scholarship to one of the best schools in Ohio, if not the country. He needed time to digest all of this.

"Please, call me Margaret," she smiled at Burt.

They went on to discuss all of the aspects of the scholarship and by the end of it both of the Hummel men had accepted that it had been awarded to Kurt on his own merits, not just because his boyfriend was the son of the headmistress.

They ended the evening as Margaret got a phone call from Blaine saying he had landed in Reykjavik and was with his father. She let Kurt speak to him for a few moments as he told about his scholarship. Of course Blaine knew that Kurt hadn't applied because he was the one that did it.

When Margaret was given her cell phone back, Blaine was overcome with gratitude for a moment. He spoke to her through his tears.

"Thank you, Mother. I love you."

"Goodnight, Blaine. I love you, too."

* * *

"Blaine!"

Linden saw his son walking slowly down the long hallway of the airport dragging his luggage behind him.

In spite of his disappointment in not being allowed to spend his senior year with Kurt, Blaine was genuinely happy to see his father. It was a sad day when Blaine had his accident while visiting his dad in Paris and this would do a lot to make up for the missed time. Blaine tried to put a brave face on it and smiled as Linden threw his arms around him for a big hug.

"I can hardly wait to show you the town!" Linden crowed, taking half of the luggage and turning to go back to his car. Blaine followed along, his eyes falling on new and interesting places.

It wasn't long before he was on Skype with Kurt, telling him about some of the wonderful cultural things going on in Reykjavik: festivals and museums and other wonders that Blaine has taken pictures and videos of for Kurt to see.

Kurt was very excited about now attending Dalton, even if the curriculum was twice or three times as demanding as McKinley ever thought of being. It kept Kurt too busy to pout and mope,

As the days dragged by, Kurt found he missed Blaine more than he ever expected to. It's like a constant ache in his heart. His dad tried to help, but being told how much he'll love the homecoming, he can't bear it some days. Texts and videos cannot hold him close or kiss him.

About a month after Blaine arrived in Iceland, he was skyping with Kurt one evening. He brought up a sore subject – seeing other people. He hated the idea of Kurt being so lonely for a whole school year before he'll see Blaine again so Blaine told Kurt of his plan.

While they are in separate countries, they should date. Just to take the edge of pain away. Kurt rebukes the idea immediately, but Blaine is persistent.

"I don't care about anyone but you, Blaine!" Kurt whined. He was feeling rejected.

"It won't be bad, Kurt. I'm not saying we jump in bed with the first willing guy we see. No, I mean we can go out with a nice guy that shows interest, but no sex. I couldn't take that."

Kurt finally agrees. He does need to have an anchor to cling to at this new school. He's tired of daydreaming that Blaine will come walking through the doors and sweep him off his feet.

Blaine hates this idea, even if he was the one that made it happen. He does his best to find another gay kid in one of his classmates but they only go on one date because Blaine is just not interested. He sits at his father's house and cries silent tears before going to bed each night.

During the day he can forget his woes for a while. His dad takes him to work some days and Blaine finds it fun and enlightening – especially when a first grade class tours the displays in the UNESCO building. Despite his high-profile job, Linden is a surprisingly good at keeping Blaine's attention off of Kurt and more on the history and culture of Iceland.

Blaine is fascinated, but he pines after his boyfriend every night. It snows and Blaine finds it difficult to enjoy the snow. It's cold and wet, two things Blaine hates to feel.

Kurt buries his nose in a book whenever he can. It stops most people from coming near. Several of his fellow Warblers stay as his friends, but most of them are straight and have girlfriends – girlfriends that love Kurt and invite him to sleep-over parties, shopping sprees and all sorts of fun activities. Kurt sits and contemplates why Blaine was so adamant he go out and find a guy to date- platonically. He finally narrows his choices down to one person and it came as a surprise that Kurt was able to find another gay guy at Dalton. Kurt screws up his courage and decides to go for it. Where's the fun in sitting alone in the dorm?

So, courage in hand, Kurt marches up to the boy he's selected and asks him out for coffee.

* * *

"Soft Light and Sweet Music" is from the 1932 Broadway musical **Face the Music** by Moss Heart, songs by Irving Berlin.


	18. A Hundred Million Miracles

**My Reader – Chapter Eighteen – A Hundred Million Miracles**

Kurt woke up early and watched the sun rise out of his window. His first thoughts were of Blaine, as usual, but he jumped out of bed to get dressed. He was meeting his date in his Dalton dorm room in just half an hour.

It was Saturday, so no uniform. He began to put on the clothes he'd chosen last night, starting with dark green trousers that had a subtle pinstripe. He paired those with a pale blue shirt and a black waistcoat. He topped it off with a yellow ascot, pinned to his shirt with a jeweled dragonfly brooch. He was ready.

At the coffee house, he and Trent ordered their drinks and sat outside on the small patio. Kurt shivered for a moment, a cold breeze blowing up his shirt sleeves. It brought a beautiful odor of flowers and Kurt smiled. They were next door to Kurt's favorite florist and even in winter it smelled good.

Trent thought Kurt was smiling at him and acted accordingly – smiling brightly at Kurt across the table. Kurt smiled back, trying to hide his melancholy.

"Are you okay, Kurt?" Trent queried.

"Yeah... I'm fine. Just good, you know," Kurt replied.

"You're shivering...here, take my jacket," Trent offered, take it off and putting it around Kurt's shoulders.

Kurt blushed.

"Thank you, Trent. You're a true gentleman," Kurt said, smiling in spite of himself. Being a gentleman rated high on Kurt's list of desirable traits in a man.

"How did you do on that Chemistry test? I thought it was the hardest one yet this semester!" Trent complained.

"I did okay, but my solution didn't come together the way it was supposed to – I heated it after I mixed in the crystals and it turned into a glob instead of a blue liquid. But otherwise it was okay," Kurt admitted.

"We could do our homework together?" Trent offered, knowing Kurt was new to Dalton and might need support.

"Ah...yeah we might do that," Kurt hedged, not wanting to commit to anything.

"What are you doing for Christmas?" Kurt asked.

"We're going to Vermont to go skiing, or maybe Colorado, what about you?"

"Probably just stay at home with my family ~ we usually decorate the house and bake cookies and all," Kurt said, a warm feeling in his tummy thinking about being home and doing all the Christmas ritual.

They drank their cocoa and chatted about school and their families.

"Can I walk you back to Dalton?" Trent asked.

"Sure."

They started walking and Trent slowed down to take Kurt's hand. Kurt allowed it but deep down inside he wanted to shake his hand loose and run all the way home and lie down in his bed, covers over his head, and cry. He missed Blaine.

Just as they walked into the dorm hall, Kurt let go and thanked Trent for the cocoa, then turned and walked down his hall and into his room.

It was a terrible day and all Kurt wanted to do was wash his hands and curl up in his bed. It wasn't fair to Trent. He was a kind boy that hadn't done anything wrong. He had just about decided to call his dad to have a long talk when there was a knock on his door.

He opened the door a crack – when was Dalton going to install peep-holes?

"Kurt! How are you killer?" Sebastian pushed his way in and sat down on the only chair.

"Ah...Sebastian. How are you?" Kurt said, startled. He didn't think the boy liked him enough to want to visit him in his dorm. He'd known Seb was a student at Dalton but hadn't seen him since before the beginning of school.

"I'm very well, thank you. And you?" Seb said politely. It was merely a reflex - Kurt could tell.

"I'm okay," Kurt replied, skeptical of Sebastian's reason for being there.

"Good to hear. Are you and Blaine still together?" he asked.

"Of course!"

"Then why did I see you holding hands with Trent?" he asked.

"None of your business," Kurt snapped.

"Speaking of Blaine...I haven't seen him since I left for France in July. Where is he? I don't have his dorm number," Sebastian said, acting as though Kurt hadn't just insulted him.

"He isn't here."

"Isn't here? Of course he's here. His family owns this school, where else would he be?"

"With his father. Now, if there isn't anything else..." Kurt hinted.

"How long is he going to be gone?" Seb asked, looking less than pleased.

"All year. All. Fucking. Year."

"Oh. Well, I guess he didn't tell me because I was out of the country. I'll call his mother for his address," Seb fumed.

"Yeah, that's why," Kurt said, sarcasm dripping from his mouth.

"Well, with my bestie gone how about you come to lunch with me tomorrow? It's on me," Seb offered.

"What?"

"Lunch. At the Duchess Cafe. Noon." Sebastian threw over his shoulder, closing the door behind him.

It was Friday and Kurt got up, looking out of the window at the cool fall day. He hadn't been too happy about Sebastian visiting him yesterday but the boy was Blaine's friend so perhaps he should go to lunch with him. It couldn't hurt.

~

"Well, look what the cat dragged in," Sebastian greeted Kurt as he walked into the Duchess Cafe.

"Oh, I thought you wanted me to be here. My mistake..." Kurt turned on his heel but Sebastian grabbed his arm before he was able to walk away.

"Hold on, I didn't mean anything by that. Please, sit down. I invited you to lunch because I wanted to extend a hand of friendship. Okay?" Seb offered, looking sorry.

"Okay." Kurt sat down and took the menu Seb offered to him. "What would you recommend?"

"The trout is good, so is the veal. Order anything you like," Seb said with a smile.

The waiter came over and they ordered.

"Could we have white wine spritzers with that?" Seb asked and the waiter nodded.

"I don't drink, Sebastian, and we're not old enough to order alcohol," Kurt griped, rolling his eyes.

"There isn't enough alcohol in that to matter, and I order it here all the time. The owner is a friend of my mother's."

"Of course."

"So, what do you hear from Blaine? Is he having a good time in France?" Seb asked.

"He's not in France. His dad is on assignment for a year, and Blaine is fine. Except he misses me," Kurt admitted.

"Of course he does. Where is he?"

Kurt thought for a while, but couldn't find a reason to keep it a secret. Plenty of people knew where Blaine was so Seb could find out if he asked around.

"He's in Iceland."

"Oh, maybe I'll take a small trip up there to warm him up a bit. Poor Blaine, in all the ice and snow by himself..."

"He went to the warm thermal springs yesterday, I doubt he needs to be warmed up," Kurt said, glaring at Sebastian.

"Of course. Sorry to step on your toes, killer."

Kurt rolled his eyes and began to talk about Christmas break and what Seb's family might be doing.

"Probably going to Aspen for skiing, or maybe Gstaad this year," he bragged. "Switzerland isn't that far from Reykjavik, I could just stop in for a short visit," Seb teased his lunch companion.

"Fuck you," Kurt said, folding his napkin and placing it on the table next to his partly eaten plate of Trout Almondine. Seb reached out and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Please don't leave. I'm sorry. I didn't know you were so sensitive about it. You must really miss Blainers," Seb commiserated.

"I do," Kurt said, his eyes getting red as he held back the tears.

"Then why are you holding hands with Trent after cuddling up to him at The Chocolate Cat?"

"What...did you follow me?" Kurt asked, his eyes huge.

"I didn't mean to. I was there and was walking home to my dorm. You were walking in front of me. It was just a coincidence. It made me wonder what happened between you and Blaine, you were all cozy with him last summer."

"He suggested we go out with other guys since he'll be gone all year. I like Trent, he's a nice guy, but I don't want to go out with anyone but Blaine," Kurt sighed and put his napkin back in his lap. He took a bite of the delicious fish and sighed again.

"Well, while the cat's away, the mice will play," Seb leered at Kurt, then put a hand on his forearm. "I could help you to forget Blaine for a while if that's what you're looking for."

"No! I am not looking to forget Blaine. It was his idea, but I don't agree. After lunch I'm going to go tell Trent."

"You wouldn't need to tell Blaine anything, I can be discreet if I need to. I can slip into your dorm room quietly and we can spend the night...learning to forget," Seb smiled.

"No. No, no, no. Never," Kurt said, raising his voice.

"Okay, I get it. I'll ask again later when you're had some time to build up steam. You'll come to me, they always do," Seb smiled, winking at Kurt. "Dessert?"

* * *

**That night over Skype...**

"It didn't work."

"Aww, Kurt – you didn't give it a chance. I bet Trent would go to coffee with you again, just ask him," Blaine said, looking sad.

"Yeah, he probably would, but I don't need him to. I don't want to go out with anyone right now. There's too much homework and projects to finish, and things to catch up on. I was an A student at McKinley, but it's because their curriculum was so far behind. I have books to read to catch up to the rest of the class. There is no time. Plus, Wes, Dave, and Nick are trying to recruit me for the Warblers and I don't know if I'll have time for that," Kurt babbled out all at once. He was overwhelmed and beginning to show it.

"Okay. I can tell you who could help with each class. I know you're current in Literature, probably ahead of most of the students. History – try Trent. He's a real history buff and could help there. Thad is good at math and so is Wes. Just join the Warblers and tell them you need help, they won't let you fall through the cracks, I promise," Blaine told him.

"I could ask Sebastian, he's always bragging about how great he is with biology," Kurt said.

"No, don't go near him, he's dangerous. He's in France anyway," Blaine rolled his eyes.

"Actually, I had lunch with him this afternoon," Kurt said nonchalantly. He wanted to gage Blaine's reaction.

"What?" Blaine shouted. "NO. No, no, no. You cannot go out with that evil snake. He'll trick you into doing things you don't want to do. He'll steal your virginity. No, he's a trickster, don't go anywhere alone with him!"

"Wow. That pushed some buttons. Did he steal YOUR virginity, Blaine? Is there something you haven't told me?" Kurt asked, his eyes big and round.

"No, he didn't. But it wasn't for lack of trying. Lucky for me, I've known him since we were little kids and I know his tricks. He hinted at, then came out and asked if he could, but I said no. He's a family friend, but he's not going to be romantically or sexually involved with me. Ever."

"Okay, Blaine. I get it. I won't go out with him again. He just wanted to get your phone number or address. He said he was going to Switzerland for Christmas and he could hop over to Iceland while he was there..." Kurt mumbled. He knew he was jealous and didn't want to look any worse than he already did.

"He can come knock on my door – I won't let him in. I'll warn my dad, he won't let Sebastian anywhere near me if I tell him how he's tried to seduce me. My dad is extra protective lately," Blaine smiled.

"Besides, I'm trying to talk him into letting me go home to Ohio for Christmas," Blaine grinned.

Kurt smiled back, a tear in his eye. He missed Blaine.

"Well, that's still a month away. I want to get you something special..."

"I'm just going to take all my clothes off and show up in your room with mistletoe in my belly-button," Blaine winked at him. Kurt blushed to his hairline.

"Blaine!" was all he could say.

"Hey, seriously, I do miss you, baby," Blaine said, reaching a hand towards the computer screen. Kurt touched his, too.

"Hey, you didn't tell me how your date went," Kurt asked, eyes expectant.

"It didn't. I asked two different guys if they wanted to go get a cuppa, but neither of them wanted to. I guess I'm just not what guys are looking for here. Oh, well, I'm saving myself for you," Blaine smiled.

"But...but you're gorgeous! How could they turn you down?" Kurt gasped.

What Blaine didn't tell Kurt was that the two boys he's asked were just friends from his class...and both of them were straight. Blaine didn't want to go out with anyone else, he just made the pact so Kurt wouldn't be lonely.

"Are you alone? We could have some nice Skype sex," Blaine kidded. He laughed when Kurt blushed and shook his head no.

"Blaine! Why do you always ask me that? Your laptop is in the living room of your townhouse. What if your dad walked in?" Kurt asked.

"He wouldn't join in, he's straight," Blaine kidded.

Kurt just glared at him, trying not to laugh.

"You should join the Warblers – I'm serious. You will love it. I need to go do my homework. I'll talk to you tomorrow?" Blaine asked.

"Yeah, same time. I'll be home tomorrow so we can talk more. I miss you, sweetheart," Kurt said, tears forming in his eyes.

"I miss you, too, baby. I love you," Blaine answered, tears dripping down his cheek.

"I love you, too."

* * *

The cold weather set in to stay in Ohio. It was a few weeks after Blaine suggested Kurt join the singing group, which he did.

Kurt joined his fellow Warblers in sledding down the hills behind the school's rose garden, building a fort and having a snowball fight (he hit poor Sebastian in the face and it dripped down his snow jacket), and going to The Chocolate Cat to drink hot cocoa with tiny marshmallows. The Warblers were a great bunch of guys and it helped that they all knew Blaine and accepted Kurt with open arms. He only hoped Blaine had a similar bunch of friends to support him.

Christmas vacation came and he said goodbye to the Warblers, promising to visit them over the holiday if they had time.

He came home, luggage in tow so he could have everything cleaned for the new year.

He'd planned to go up in the attic to get the Christmas decorations down with Finn's help the next day, but his father woke him up with breakfast on a tray.

"Dad! You didn't need to do this," Kurt said, "But I like it."

"I thought we could have a bit of Christmas cheer. Here, I have an early Christmas present for you."

"But Christmas isn't for another week..."

"Just open it," Burt smiled.

Kurt torn the gold foil package open only to find two smaller packages, each with a tag on it.

**For: Kurt**

**From: Dr. Anderson**

said one

**For: My Boy**

**From: Dad**

on the other.

"Which should I open first?" he asked.

"Either one, it won't matter," Burt told him.

Kurt opened the one from his dad.

"A passport? In my name?" he asked, looking through the pages. "Why?" he asked as he looked up at his father.

"For someone so smart, you sure are clueless," Burt laughed and handed him the other package.

He opened that one and out fell a ticket. To Reykjavik. His scream of joy could probably be heard in Iceland.

"Now, don't let on that you're coming. Blainers doesn't know. It's his present, too. You will be met at the airport by Linden and he will take you to Blaine. I hope it's what he wants, he just tells me he wants to come home and we can't do that. I promised his father. But I think this will be just as good, don't you?" Dr. Anderson said when Kurt called her to thank her for the ticket.

* * *

**Keflavik International Airport, Iceland**

"Hello, Dr. Anderson," Kurt grinned, seeing him at the gate.

"Hi, Kurt, so good to see you. How was your flight?" Linden Anderson said as he took Kurt's suitcase and started to walk towards the door.

"Now, he thinks I just went to the grocery, so I'm going to give you my keys and I'll just slip down to the club and be home in three or four hours. Behave yourself." Linden grinned and patted Kurt on the back. Kurt smiled back at him, looking down to be sure the big red bow that Linden had affixed to his jacket was in place.

Kurt walked up the stairs to the townhouse and fumbled with the keys, opening the door and walking in, listening to see where Blaine would be. He looked around at all the Christmas decorations, including a big tree. He glanced over and saw the golden apple ornament he'd sent Blaine to remind him of their stay in New York.

With a smile on his face, Kurt walked slowly towards Blaine's voice . . .

* * *

"A Hundred Million Miracles" is from the 1958 Broadway & West End musical **Flower Drum Song** Words and music by Richard Rogers and Oscar Hammerstein.


	19. I'll Be Seeing You

**My Reader – Chapter Nineteen - I'll Be Seeing You**

* * *

Kurt followed Blaine's voice...

"But Mr. Hummel...okay, Burt …. he said he's be there, he said we could talk today and he's still asleep? It's noon there, right? ….. I know you didn't say he was in bed...but...oh, all right. Thanks, Mr. Hummel. Burt. I'll wait for his call. Merry Christmas."

Blaine set down the phone and put his hands on his face. He sighed and sat back in the chair. This was shaping up to be a lousy Christmas.

Kurt stood in the doorway of what looked like a family room, just gazing at Blaine. He waited a beat and Blaine spoke again, his back still to Kurt.

"Hey, dad, did you get the butter I asked for? I want to make those cookies Kurt sent me the recipe for...Dad?" Blaine called. He turned.

"He might have forgotten the butter. Will I do?" Kurt asked and put out his arms.

"Oh, my stars...Kurt? Is it really you? Kurt!"

Kurt's arms were suddenly filled with a warm body, kisses all over his face.

"Oh, my god, Kurt! Why didn't you tell me? Does my dad know?" Blaine babbled, not knowing what to say.

"Calm down, sweetheart. You get me for a whole week. Yes, your dad knows, he picked me up at the airport and gave me his house keys. He'll be back in three hours. I'm all yours..." Kurt managed to say before he was kissing Blaine, too.

"Who did all this?" Blaine finally asked when they were sitting on the sofa a while later.

"Your mom gave me the plane ticket for Christmas. They must have planned it a while ago because my dad gave me a passport for Christmas."

"I did kind of...well, all I would talk about when she called me was how much I wanted to come home. It's nice to be with my dad, but he's busy a lot and I miss you so much. I'm going to have to call and thank her," Blaine said, blushing. He tried to calm himself down, but his heart was racing and his head was still a bit fuzzy.

"Is it okay I came? I mean...with no warning?" Kurt worried.

"What do you think?" Blaine asked and kissed him again. He'd pulled Kurt onto his lap and put his arms around him, pulling him close. Kurt suddenly knew for sure how happy Blaine was to see him, he had solid proof of it.

"I miss you, too," he cooed, taking Blaine's hand and putting it in his lap. Blaine's eyes got big.

"How soon is Dad coming home?" he asked.

"About three or four hours...and I have his house key."

Blaine helped Kurt to stand up and led him into his bedroom...

"Kurt? Is this okay?" Blaine asked as he began to unbutton Kurt's waistcoat.

"Yes, it's fine," Kurt whispered. They were on Blaine's bed, staring into each other's eyes.

Piece by piece they removed each other's clothes, folding them or placing them on hangers in the closet. They were anxious to be naked together but still respectful of their clothes ~ and stretching out the foreplay was romantic.

Blaine took Kurt's hand and led him to the bed, folding back the blankets and sheets so they could slide in together.

"Your skin is so warm, baby," Blaine cooed, snuggling close to Kurt's side. Kurt pulled him even closer, Blaine's head on his chest as they let bodyheat warm them. It was cool in the bedroom and both boys had gooseflesh.

"I missed you so much," Blaine started.

"I missed you, too. It was good to talk and skype but that just doesn't take the place of touching you," Kurt returned, placing kiss after kiss on Blaine's face. "I was so lonely."

"I'm sorry. I was lonely, too. But a third of the school year is over. Are you still going to move to New York for university?"

"Yes – wait – you **are** going to New York, right?" Kurt asked in a panicked voice.

"Of course, of course. I've already gotten all of my applications. I'm going to start filling them out next week," Blaine smiled.

"Like you filled out one for me . . . .to get a scholarship to Dalton?" Kurt frowned.

"I know, we've been over this. You're happy to be at Dalton, aren't you?" Blaine asked, though he knew the answer. They had been over this numerous times.

"As happy as I can be. It would be so much better with you there, but I am doing fine. Straight A's. And now the featured soloist on a few songs with the Warblers. The guys are a big help," he smiled.

"Ya know, we could be doing something else besides talking since Dad won't be home for a few hours," Blaine reminded him. Kurt leaned forward and kissed him deeply.

"What did you have in mind, Mr. Anderson?"

"Let me show you..."

Kisses and touching led to deeper kisses and worshiping of each other's bodies.

"I want to do more, Kurt. I want to make you feel better than you've ever felt before," Blaine panted, stroking his hand along Kurt's upper thigh.

"Blaine, I love you and I want to feel good – and make you feel good – as much as you do. However I am not ready to have penetrive sex yet. I want to wait until I get married to do that. I'm happy having making out and some fooling around with you, you know I am, but that is non-negotiable."

Blaine moved back a few inches, removing his hands from Kurt's skin. He blinked back tears. That was not what he meant at all. He knew Kurt's boundaries.

"Blaine?" Kurt asked, watching sadness come over Blaine's whole being. "Are you...are you crying? Because I won't let you fuck me? Really?"

Kurt sat up, pulling the covers tightly around himself.

"That's what our relationship is all about?" Kurt growled, "Correct me if I'm wrong here, but it appears that you are upset because you laid the groundwork and now that I won't have anal sex you are ready to throw in the towel?" Kurt said, his voice getting louder and louder.

Blaine turned over and faced the wall, his arms over his head. The tears were running down his face because Kurt didn't understand him at all.

Kurt sighed, leaning his arms across his knees and putting his head down. He thought about the ridiculous conclusion he'd jumped to and his face reddened as shame filled him. He was being stupid and needed to fix this. Right. Now.

"Blaine?" he whispered, reaching out to touch his boyfriend's shoulder.

"What?" Blaine whimpered, his tears clogging his throat.

"I'm sorry."

Blaine sighed but didn't turn around.

"Really, I am so sorry. I have no excuse for jumping to conclusions and not communicating with you. Please, turn over and let me see your face. I want to look in those honey-amber eyes. Please?" Kurt begged.

Blaine took another deep breath and turned over. Why did they seem to fight every time they were about to go forward with another step of intimacy?

He looked into Kurt's eyes and saw the boy's regret.

"Talk to me, Blaine."

"I'm sorry, too. I wish I had better communication skills, too. Yes, I want to make you feel good. Yes, I want to have sex with you. That wasn't me trying to coerce you into having anal sex, though. You told me before that you want to wait for your wedding night and I understand that. I think it's romantic.

"My issue here is that I never said that anal sex was what I wanted," Blaine continued. "I was thinking of something else and you apparently assumed I was asking to fuck you. You never even asked me to clarify, you just assumed that I cannot control my urges, right?" Blaine said in a sad voice, a tear making its way down his cheek.

"You're right. I did think that. I was wrong. Can you forgive me?" Kurt asked, his sincerity showing in his face.

"Of course I can, baby. Can we start over this evening? I think we are both over-anxious and need to think it over before we speak?"

Kurt leaned forward and kissed him.

"Yes. Let's start over."

They slid back under the covers, hands hesitant before softly holding other in a tender hug. Kurt gently pushed Blaine so he was lying on his back on the bed. He started at Blaine's neck and made his way slowly down to his chest with lips and fingers.

"Ahhh, baby, that feels so good..." Blaine mumbled, his eyes closed and his toes curling under the blankets.

"Mmmmm..." Kurt hummed back, his attention on Blaine's muscled pecs as he kissed over his chest, slowing down as his tongue found a nipple.

"Kurt!"

He curled his tongue around the pebbled skin as it hardened and Blaine moaned quietly.

Kurt moved down to Blaine's waist, his kisses continuing as he reached the downy trail of soft curls that led further past Blaine's belly-button.

"Kurt...baby..." Blaine murmured, his hareeart pounding in his chest.

"Do you want me to stop?"

"No! Please don't stop."

Kurt's hands were stroking up his boyfriend's inner thighs, just barely touching his balls on every other stroke. He edged Blaine's legs apart a few centimetres at a time as he finally let his mouth come in contact with his cock. After just a bit of teasing, he engulfed it, letting his mouth slide slowly down as far as it was comfortable. Then he let his tongue take over and massage around the head.

"Yes, Kurt, yes...oh, gods..."

Kurt hummed again and Blaine whined. This was more than he'd thought possible – the descriptions he'd read gave him no real indication he could feel _this_ good...and last time they'd engaged in this activity Blaine was so nervous he didn't enjoy it like he should have. He was ready to remedy that right now.

Kurt let go with his lips and stroked with his hand instead, gripping and sliding his hand in the saliva-slick cock. He put his finger in his mouth to get it very wet and went back to sucking and tonguing. While Blaine had his head in that space, not paying any attention to anything but his cock, Kurt put his wet finger over his boyfriend's entrance and rubbed gently. He might not be okay with penile penetration, but he wanted to give Blaine something.

"Oh my gods, Kurt!" he said, his voice rasping in shock. Kurt pressed a bit harder and stroked over Blaine's rim as he pushed his mouth deeper and swallowed around his hard erection. "I'm too close, babe. Too close..." Blaine gasped and came harder than he thought possible, his hands wrapped tightly in the blanket.

A short time later, when his heart had stopped pounding, Blaine put his head up as he leaned on his elbow to look into Kurt's eyes.

"I love you, Kurt."

"I love you, too. Now, how about my Christmas present?" he laughed.

A wide grin split Blaine's face as he rolled over on top of Kurt and hugged him tightly.

"Coming right up..."

##

At 9:30 that evening, as the boys were watching a Christmas music special on the television in the den, a knock came to the door and Blaine went to open it.

"Dad!" he shouted and threw his arms around Linden. His dad grinned.

"Hey, Blainers...anything new while I was away?" he asked with a twinkle in his eye.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" his son babbled, his arms still around his father's neck.

"You're welcome. Now, I bet you didn't have any supper, did you?" he asked, walking into the dining room and smiling at Kurt, who blushed.

They had a late-evening supper of salad with smoked fish and just-baked rye bread spread with fresh creamery butter.

"Kurt, I have the guest room set up for you," Linden offered, walking down the hallway. If he noticed the covers on Blaine's bed rumpled up, he didn't say anything.

"I'll help him get everything situated," Blaine quickly offered and took Kurt's hand to lead him to the room. He stopped to get his boyfriend's luggage and take it into the guest room on their way.

"Goodnight, Blaine. Goodnight, Kurt," Linden said as he went upstairs to his own room to retire for the night.

* * *

"What would you like to do today, boys?" Linden asked at breakfast the next morning. "I have a conference that might last all day, so you can drop me at the office and take my car if you wish?"

"Thanks, Dad. I think we might go downtown and stroll around. I want to hit the museums tomorrow and later some nature destinations," Blaine said. He'd thought of a lot of places to take Kurt to show him Iceland.

##

"This is Lake Tjornin," Blaine said, holding Kurt's hand as they walked along the path.

"Look! Swans!" Kurt gushed in delight as he rushed over to the edge of the lake to look closer. "See that big one in front? Isn't he magnificent?"

"Sure is...magnificent," Blaine agreed, though he was gazing at Kurt's ass as he said it.

"Blaine!" Kurt turned to see his boyfriend ogling his backside and blushed, looking to see if anyone noticed.

"Hey, are you hungry?" Blaine asked.

"I could eat, why – I don't see any street food carts," Kurt laughed, teasing Blaine about their time in New York.

"Come this way, I have a treat for you in mind," Blaine smiled and led him to a shop on the street.

"Hot dogs? Really, Blaine?" Kurt said, rolling his eyes.

"Oh, not just any hot dogs...these are the best in the world. Trust me," he said, ordering two with sweet brown mustard and fried onions.

"Oh my sweet heaven!" Kurt gasped as he took a bite of his hot dog.

Blaine giggled.

"What is this? This isn't like any hot dog I've ever had. I thought Chicago was the king of hot dogs, but it isn't in the same league..." Kurt went on.

"Chicago hot dogs are made of pork or beef. These are made of the animal that is most prevalent in Iceland," Blaine explained.

"And what's that?"

"Lamb."

"Ah, well, that makes sense I guess. So, do you eat this every single day for lunch?" Kurt giggled, taking another giant bite.

"Of course I do!"

They finished up their lunch and Blaine took Kurt's hand.

"We need to get going, I need to get the tickets for the performance..." Blaine said.

"Performance?"

"At Perlan Rotating Glass Dome. But we need to hurry..."

Kurt followed Blaine to the large glass dome on the top of the highest hill in Reykjavik.

##

"Dad!" Kurt crowed, so happy to see his father's face on the Skype.

"Kurt, how is everything? Have you gotten out of the house yet?" Burt laughed. Kurt blushed.

"Yes, of course we did. Blaine took me to see the Perlan Glass Dome today. Perlan means 'Pearl' - and the dome looks like a big pearl from a distance. It was wonderful: there was an exhibition of the nature in Iceland and then we saw the show at the planetarium. They had the Northern Lights but Blaine said we'd see them in person this week. After the shows we walked out on the observation deck where we could see all over Reykjavik. It was amazing..." Kurt excitedly told his father.

"We're going to a natural history museum tomorrow, but every time Blaine mentions it, he laughs. I have no idea what's so funny about a museum..." Kurt wondered.

"Hey, Kurt, stop and take a breath!" Burt laughed, glad to hear his son so excited to be seeing the wonders of Iceland. "How is Blaine?"

"Oh, Dad, he was so happy to see me. Almost as happy as I was to see him!" Kurt enthused.

"That's good, I'm glad for you. Does that make up for not having him here for school this year?" Burt asked.

"Not really, Dad. You know how much I miss him. We had been looking forward to spending this final year together. I mean, I would be at McKinley and he'd be at Dalton, but we would have made it work. Then with me at Dalton now – it kind of makes it worse because I miss him being there even though we never went to school together. All the Warblers and a lot of other guys know Blaine and they ask about him all the time. It's a constant reminder, you know?" Kurt asked, looking sad.

"I understand, buddy, but wouldn't it be worse if you were still at McKinley ~ even if Blaine's there with his father?"

"Yeah, it would. At least I never have to see Karofsky or his gang at Dalton," Kurt admitted with a sigh. "How is Carol? What's Finn up to? Is Phaelan behaving himself?"

"Everyone is fine. Carol is baking up a storm for Christmas, Finn is back with Rachel...I think...and I took Phaelan over to Dr Anderson's to play with Macushla. She thought he'd do well there until you get back."

Phaelan was back at the Anderson's now that Kurt was at Dalton everyday, but he took the big dog home on the weekends.

"I miss you, Dad. I'll especially miss you on Christmas, but you know I love you," Kurt said.

"I love you, too, buddy."

* * *

"Okay, what's so funny?" Kurt asked as Blaine drove down the street towards the natural museum.

"Ah, what? I wasn't laughing," Blaine smirked.

Kurt rolled his eyes but they grew wide as they entered the parking lot of the museum.

**Icelandia Phallological Museum**

"Uh...Blaine? Does 'Phallological' mean what I think it does?" Kurt asked.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure it does," Blaine said, his face serious, "Phallus. Penis. Cock. Yeppers."

Kurt just stared at him.

"They have a whole _museum_ of...penises?"

"Yes."

"Only you, Blaine, would take me to a museum to see a bunch of penises. Wow," Kurt started to giggle as he turned red. "Well, lead on...this I must see."

"This is a serious scientific museum, Kurt. There are over 215 penises and parts of penises in this museum. Why are you laughing?" Blaine asked, trying not to smirk.

"For the same reason you were when you planned this?"

They went in the museum, looking at the displays. Some of the displays were comically funny and some were astounding.

"That's a giraffe penis? Oh, my stars in heaven...I'm somehow feeling a bit inadequate," Kurt said as he stood in front of the four-foot long mammal appendage.

"Kurt," Blaine whispered in his ear, "You have nothing to worry about, believe me."

Kurt turned just as Blaine leaned forward and kissed him.

"Hey, not in public..."

"Nobody's in this room, baby. Can I have another kiss before we go to the next display?"

Kurt kissed him, then took his hand.

They went into the gift shop afterwards and Blaine started laughing.

"Look!" he said, pointing out the condoms with volcanoes or geysers printed on them. Kurt bough a pack for Finn and one for Puck.

They got to the car and Blaine handed Kurt a package he'd gotten him in the gift shop.

"What's this?"

"Open it," Blaine smiled.

"Oh...wow..." Kurt smirked. He took out a T-shirt with the Icelandic Phallological Museum's logo on the front – underneath that it read " _ **This museum is not for pussies**_ ".

* * *

For the rest of the week, Blaine and Kurt were inseparable. Blaine took Kurt to see the best sights, though he'd only seen them for the first time himself just a month or so ago. They still had fun. There was a tour of an ice cave, a few more museums, and watching the Northern Lights late at night.

When they weren't sightseeing, the boys spent a lot of time in Blaine's bedroom, making out and just holding each other. Both knew they would have to be alone with only skype to keep them warm.

On Christmas Eve, Linden drove them all to the South Coast to see Reynisfjara Black Sand Beach. The boys walked along the beach and even found a few pieces of sea glass. Kurt took a small bottle and scooped up some of the beach sand to keep. Linden bought them all fish and chips with skyr (Icelandic yogurt) dipping sauce.

For Christmas, a friend of Linden's invited them to supper where his wife served traditional Hangikjot, smoked lamb, and Lauferbraud: round, thin, flat cakes decorated like leaves.

"Merry Christmas, boys," Linden said and he gave them each a hug that night when they got home.

"Merry Christmas," they both said back, so happy to be together.

* * *

 _I'll Be Seeing You_ is from the Broadway musical **Right This Way** , lyrics by Irving Kahal and music by Sammy Fein.


	20. The Impossible Dream

**My Reader – Chapter Twenty – The Impossible Dream**

* * *

The plane landed and Kurt slumped in his seat. He was the last one to leave the plane and he walked slowly down the corridor to baggage claim. He sent his father a text and received one back – then went to where Burt was waiting in passenger pick-up for him.

"How was your vacation, kiddo?" Burt asked him.

"It was the best. Seeing Blaine was . . . well, you know."

"Yes, I think I do. I'm so grateful that Dr. Anderson gave you such a great present," Burt grinned.

"How was your Christmas? I see you got new jeans and shirts," Kurt observed.

"Yes, I'm trying a new style. Carol got me this polo shirt for when I'm not at work. What do you think?" Burt asked, preening like a peacock.

"You look great, Dad," Kurt smiled.

Later, at home, Kurt gave his dad a gift – a small plastic cube with a bit of water in it.

"What's this?" Burt asked, shaking the water around.

"It's an Icelandic snowflake...oh, gosh, it melted I guess..." Kurt laughed at his joke and Burt grinned.

"I'm taking this to work, the guys are going to love it."

Kurt got Carol a winter sweater and later gave Finn the package of condoms he got at the Phalacological Museum. They had volcanoes printed on either side.

* * *

**Kurt moved back into the Dalton dorms right after Winter Break...**

Entering the choir rehearsal room, Kurt ran into the one Warbler he didn't want to see.

"Hey, killer!" Sebastian haled his fellow Warbler.

"Sebastian, how was your break?" Kurt asked, trying for a cordial exchange with the boy he would rather avoid. He made a conscious decision to try to be friendly, maybe Sebastian had changed?

"It was good in so many ways. The snow on the slopes of Gstaad was miles of powder, so fast," he grinned, "And while I hesitate to mention it...I may have made a stop in Reykjavik just before Christmas to bring a bit of warmth and cheer to our mutual friend. He was so lonely with you across the world from him, I took pity and gave him enough hot action to stay warm until June, if I do say so myself," Sebastian shone his sly grin on Kurt.

Kurt tried to look shocked, knowing Seb was lying.

By this time several of the Warblers were listening, their eyes averted knowing a fight might break out. Being caught fighting was grounds for suspension or expulsion from Dalton.

"You did? You are speaking of Blaine Anderson, right?" Kurt asked.

"Of course. Linden asked me to stay, we are old friends. He knew I would cheer Blaine right up," Sebastian went on, smirking as he rolled out lie after lie. "Blaine and I got trapped in a snow cave and I had to keep him warm ovenight, skin on skin you know..."

"Hmm, was it this ice cave?" Kurt asked as he opened the gallery on his iPhone and showed the Warblers a picture of him with Blaine in an ice cave. "Funny, I don't recall a threesome. Or maybe you were on the black sand beach with him in Reynisfjara? Oh, I know! You and Blaine were strolling along the shore of Lake Tjornin to see the swans? Or stopped for lamb dogs along Laugavegur?"

Sebastian was uncharacteristically silent as Kurt showed the Warblers picture after picture of himself with Blaine in Iceland for the winter break. But the boy had a sense of humor and knew when he'd lost in a fair fight.

"Kurt! Why did you cut me out of all the photos? I thought we were the Three Icelandic Musketeers? What would Blaine say about that?" Sebastian laughed. He knew he'd been defeated.

Kurt smiled, knowing he'd won.

"Oh, I thought you were right there with us...?"

The other Warblers laughed, smiling at Kurt's good humor in what could have been an expulsion-inducing knock-down-drag-out fight. Sebastian blushed, perhaps for the first time, and bowed his head.

"Can I buy you a cup of coffee and you can tell me all about your winter break?" Seb asked later, after the first rehearsal of the new year.

"Sure – The Chocolate Cat?" Kurt replied.

"Let's go."

* * *

**Kurt's skype call to Blaine later that day...**

"Oh, you wouldn't believe it – you could have heard a pin drop. All the Warblers were there by then – Jeff, Nick, Wes, David, Trent, Thad, Eddie...and Sebastian was going on about how he'd spent the night with you in an ice cave, warming you up..." Kurt laughed.

Blaine took a minute to get his breath, he was laughing so hard. Kurt had related the incident of Sebastian's lies and Kurt's subsequent showing pictures of all the things he'd claimed, but with Kurt instead of Sebastian in the photos with Blaine.

"I wish I'd have been a mouse in the corner to see that!" Blaine said as he caught his breath. "Please tell me you landed the first punch?"

"No. I did something far worse. The guys were expecting me to slaughter Sebastian, I could tell, but I did not want to jeopardize my scholarship after my boyfriend worked so hard to get it for me. I didn't know what to do and I felt like I was going to explode. So I did what would probably hurt Sebastian worse than a punch in the nose...I laughed at him," Kurt confessed.

"Oh my stars...did he get upset? I bet he swung at you! He didn't hit you - did he? I'll come home and put him in the hospital if he hurt you, baby," Blaine said.

"Nope, he took me for a hot cocoa with marshmallows at The Chocolate Cat."

"He...what?" Blaine gasped, staring at Kurt's image on his computer screen.

"He bought me a hot cocoa. We talked about how hard it was on you and I being apart and how your mom bought me a ticket to come see you. At the end, he said the strangest thing. He got up, walked me to the door and leaned forward. He whispered 'I concede' into my ear ~ and left."

"Well, what do you know. Maybe there's more to Sebastian that we ever knew."

* * *

The semester dragged on and on, punctuated by fun activities like singing competitions, which the Warblers usually won, and outings like a school trip to Chicago to see The Art Institute of Chicago and to Columbus to attend a Broadway show on tour. Kurt had a good time, sitting next to Trent and whispering the whole time. Every one of the Warblers sang along with the cast as they sang the score of Cats.

Blaine was as content as he could make himself be in Reykjavik. His school didn't have a show choir, but it did have a choir and he had fun singing. He helped his dad set up the UNESCO City of Literature displays and learned a lot about the history, legends, natural phenomena, and culture of his adopted city. He saw geysers, harbors, volcanoes, and ate enough fish for a whale – not to mention lamb hot dogs.

The one thing that was a constant in both boys was the bone-aching pain of missing their boyfriend.

"Did you have fun in Chicago?" Blaine asked in their weekly skype session. They sent each other messages and emails almost every day but their parents got together and decided once a week was enough to skype. Otherwise neither boy would get their homework done or do anything beyond sit and look at the other, sighing and mooning.

"Yeah, it was good. Sebastian knew a lot about the art there and I walked with him through the exhibits. He can be good company now that he isn't acting like he's the shark and I'm the bait," Kurt said.

"Do I need to be jealous here?" Blaine kidded.

Kurt rolled his eyes.

"If you're seriously asking that, we have a bigger problem than me walking through a public art gallery next to him while an entire class of art students swarm around us," Kurt snapped. "Besides, he's got eyes for the new guy. Hunter follows him around like a puppy."

"I love you, babe," Blaine said, knowing Kurt had nothing romantic going with his childhood pal.

"How are your grades?" Kurt asked. "They have to be tip-top to improve your chances of getting into the college you want. Oh...I didn't even think of this until now. While I was there, we didn't speak to very many people, mostly tourist places and UNESCO staff. What language do most people speak? That could have some bearing on your grade, wouldn't it?"

"Icelandic is the national or official language, but it is mandatory for schools to teach English and Scandinavian languages. I go to a private school that caters to children of ambassadors and diplomats. All my classes are in English, although I've been taking a class in Icelandic," Blaine explained. He gave Kurt a dark, loving look.

" _Elska tig_ , Kurt," Blaine whispered into the microphone, smiling at his boyfriend.

"What does that mean?"

"Guess."

"I love you?," Kurt asked after just a moment's thought.

"Right. I do love you, babe. Please don't despair – we'll be together again one day, I promise."

"I love you, too."

* * *

_January 5_

_Dear Kurt,_

_I miss you so much. I bet you're tired of hearing that, huh? But I do. June cannot come soon enough, even though it is only January 5th. Almost the end of the first semester – which means only a semester to go!_

_I have all my applications in to schools in New York: NYU, Fordham, Columbia, Syracuse, Manhattan School of Music, Juilliard. I might be following in my family's footsteps – wanting to teach, but with me it would be music. What do you think?_

_I know you will be wanting to send applications, too. I think we talked about American Academy of Dramatic Arts, NYADA, and Fashion Institute of Technology among others._

_I had a dream that we were both at NYU and walked to class together. Wouldn't that be great? No matter which colleges we go to, we can live in the Dakota apartment while we're in school. I talked to Dad and he says that's fine. I just have to ask Mom._

_I am counting the days until we're together again._

_Elska tig Kurt._

_Blaine_

* * *

**January 9**

**Dearest Blaine,**

**I miss you, too. I never tire of you telling me your feelings, my love. No, June cannot come soon enough.**

**Yes, I applied to NYU as we talked about last summer. I am torn between fashion and Broadway, still unable to make a decision. I think I will wait to see what kind of financial aid package I can cobble together before I make a final decision. I'm hoping for a scholarship.**

**Sebastian is being really nice to me and to everyone. It's so strange, I'd just gotten used to his snark and rough edges. He and Hunter are an item.**

**Our drama class is going to Columbus to see Cats! I wish you were here to see it with me. I'm going to sit with Trent, he is the only Warbler in that class with me.**

**I wish I could say the weather is getting warmer, but it isn't. Ice cold, wind blowing, more snow. I bet it's the same there.**

**I wish you were here or I was there so we could cuddle in front of the fireplace and drink peppermint tea. Cocoa at The Chocolate Cat with Nick and Jeff is just not the same!**

**Elska tig, ti amo, je t'aime, and Is brea liom tu, my darling.**

**(That is I Love You in Icelandic, Italian, French, and Irish)**

**Kurt**

* * *

January 20

_Dear Kurt,_

_I got your last letter today, it took a while to get it this time._

_I love you, too, in any and every language._

_Dad thought I was depressed (Duh! I've been telling him that since September) so he took me to the Blue Lagoon spa. I got you some skin products they make. It makes your skin really soft. Try it - in spite of the fact that it looks like mud. Because it is mud. Magic mud._

_I was still not able to pull myself together, I guess, because he took me on a boat to watch whales. Wow. One 'breached' (surfaced) so near the boat it scared us all. We got splashed. How many people can say they got splashed by a freakin' whale? I have pics to send you!_

_Dad wants me to see all of Iceland I think – we've been to beaches, mountains, glaciers, and forests. This is a beautiful place, but no amount of natural beauty is going to match your natural beauty, babe._

_Elska tig, your Blaine_

* * *

**January 26**

**My Dearest,**

**I loved the pictures of the whales! Especially the one your dad took of the surprised look on your face as you got splashed. Wow! That would be so much fun. Lucky you!**

**I also loved the pictures of all the other places in Iceland, no wonder you never answer my skype calls.**

**I also love the mud products from Blue Lagoon. I was almost afraid to put that stuff on my face. Okay, I admit it, I tried it on my arm first. I love it. It does indeed make my skin softer. I can hardly wait for you to be here and feel my skin.**

**Maybe your dad just wants to bond with you since you've been away from each other for such long periods? As much as I miss you (Every. Single. Day.) I am heartened by thinking you are with your dad, who loves you and probably misses you just as much when you're here. Enjoy it while you can, you're making memories.**

**Love, your Kurt**

* * *

**January 31**

**Blaine? Did you get my last letter, the one about the skin products and pictures?**

**You aren't answering skype again, and the phone isn't connecting.**

**Where did your dad take you? On an extended trip to the depths of an ice cave?**

**Please write or skype soon. I miss you.**

**All my love, Kurt**

* * *

The end of the semester came and Kurt was getting worried. He hadn't been able to catch up with Blaine in over a week. His emails went unanswered and the skype calls never connected. He'd even talked to Dr. Anderson when he went to collect Phaelan to take him home for the weekend. She assured him that Blaine was fine, just going places with his father.

The new semester started with the Warblers meeting for a recap of what singing competitions were to come this year. They were ready for Regionals and sure they'd have a place in Nationals once again. Kurt was trying not to let his anxiety over Blaine's silence affect his school behavior. He had new classes and Warbler business to attend to. He was hoping to be appointed to a new post as maybe liaison to the administration office or something. It would look good on his applications for college.

Thad, one of his fellow Warblers, graduated last semester and was on early admission to Purdue. This also left a space in the Warblers for a new singer and they were auditioning possible candidates today.

There was a knock on the door frame of the practice room and Wes said, "Here is the first of our new candidates coming for an audition. Nick, please find his application and we'll hear him now."

Kurt glanced up to see the Dalton uniform and looked back down to try and finish his love letter to Blaine before he had to pay attention. Then Kurt looked back up, wondering why the Warblers seemed to have one collective gasp as the candidate walked in.

"Blaine? Blaine!" he shouted as he ran to his boyfriend and kissed him deeply, his arms holding on for dear life. If this was a dream, he never wanted to wake up. They hung on to the kiss until the cat-calls and whistles from the other Warblers woke them to consider they were in school, not their bedroom.

"Oh, Blaine! Where? How?" he asked, just staring into his honey-amber eyes.

"I'm back. Did you notice - I'm wearing the Dalton uniform for a reason..." Blaine teased.

"You...you're back at Dalton? We're here...together?" Kurt stuttered, unbelieving.

"Mom and Dad finally relented and let me come home. I'm here for good now. Well, at least until college. Are you glad to see me?" Blaine asked, never letting go of his boyfriend.

"So glad..." Kurt babbled as he lost himself in hugging him, his face buried in Blaine's neck.

The Warblers, caught up in the excitement of the lover's reunion, gathered closely around the pair and gave them a round of applause.

Unnoticed by any of the Warblers, the Headmistress of Dalton glanced into the rehearsal room and then turned to continue walking down the hall, a sweet smile on her face.

* * *

**EPILOGUE**

Kurt and Blaine did indeed finish high school together. They spent weekends running across fields with Macushla and Phaelan, studying, and singing with the Warblers. They graduated at the top of their class and went on to university in New York where they lived at the apartment in The Dakota.

When his father came to visit, Kurt took him on a cruise of New York Harbor aboard the tall clipper ship he'd cruised on with Blaine.

Blaine's family came to visit and he actually saw his father more often than he had before. The trip to Iceland had been worth it to rediscover the bond between the two of them.

Cooper came on school holidays and if he spent more time with Rosie, the woman from the lobster food cart, than he did with Blaine, well, it was to be expected.

Macushla and Phaelan stayed in Ohio where they had fields to run in. Walking in Central Park worked for short-term visits, but that was no life for a large sighthound. The dogs were always overjoyed to see Blaine and Kurt when they visited their homes on Ohio.

Kurt and Blaine loved their life in New York and most important of all – they loved each other.

* * *

_The Impossible Dream_ is from the 1965 Broadway musical **Man of La Mancha** , words by Joe Darion and music by Mitch Leigh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who supported me through this latest story, especially to my biggest cheerleaders: reading4mindexercise and HKVoyage ~ who kept me cheered up, as always, through writing this story during this difficult year [2020] and both surgeries. I am healing!  
> Look for my next story 'The Artist and the Ocean' where a shy marine biologist meets a scrappy tattoo artist on a beach in SoCal.


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